


171,146 Words

by ArwenLalaith



Category: Criminal Minds (US TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Small Town, Christmas, F/M, Minor Character Death, Pregnancy, based on a Hallmark movie
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-01
Updated: 2020-12-26
Packaged: 2021-03-09 20:21:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 26
Words: 26,615
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27822202
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ArwenLalaith/pseuds/ArwenLalaith
Summary: Following the untimely death of her husband and approaching her baby's due date, Emily expects nothing of this Christmas season...until JJ blindsides her by signing her up for the Christmas Pen Pal event...
Relationships: Clyde Easter/Emily Prentiss, Derek Morgan/Emily Prentiss
Comments: 8
Kudos: 31





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I'm going to ATTEMPT to write a chapter for every day in December and hopefully publish on time...but I'm not making any promises because in spite of my best efforts to prepare ahead of time, I only got like ten chapters done in November. So, we'll see what happens.

**November 30th**

"Good morning," JJ greeted as Emily came down the stairs, yawning. It was the first time she'd gotten out of bed in a few days, so she was glad to see her up. "Can I make you some breakfast?"

She attempted a smile, perhaps a bit apologetic. "I'm not really hungry." She rarely had any kind of appetite anymore, much to her doctor's chagrin, considering the fact that she was technically underweight for this stage of her pregnancy.

"Come on," JJ pressed, "You're pregnant – you need to eat so you can grow that beautiful little baby inside you." She still looked a little reluctant, so she said, "Just some toast and juice..."

She nodded once, relenting. JJ was right, even if her stomach didn't particularly agree with her.

JJ set a glass of orange juice in front of her, then wrapped her in a gentle embrace. "I love you, Em – you know that, right?"

"I know," she whispered, returning the embrace. "Thank you...for letting me stay with you, for taking care of me. I don't know what I'd do without you."

"You never have to find out," she vowed. She kissed Emily's temple. Then, softer, "Are you going to the cemetery today?"

It had been six months to the day since the funeral. Six months to the day since Emily had buried her husband, her baby's father. She hadn't been able to bring herself to visit since that first time she'd stood at his graveside and wept as if she was being rent in two by her grief...

Emily chewed her lip anxiously. "I don't know... I-I'm nervous," she admitted. "I don't want him to think I've abandoned him, but _God_...it's _so_ hard not having him here." She shook her head. "I'm not strong enough to do this without him."

"Em, you are the strongest person I know," JJ insisted. She didn't think she would've been able to do it, were she in Emily's shoes...

Emily didn't seem to believe her, but she smiled her thanks anyway. She didn't feel strong. Didn't feel capable. Didn't feel like even a shadow of the woman she'd been with him at her side.

JJ's phone chimed then. "That's Garcia," she said. "We're supposed to work the finishing details for the Christmas Pen Pal thing today, but if you need me here, I can..."

"Go," Emily urged gently. "I'll be fine."

"Are you sure?"

She nodded. She loved JJ and was forever grateful to her for taking her in, but in that moment, all she really wanted was to be alone with her memories.

* * *

"Mama, I'm home," Derek sing-songed as he flung the door shut behind him, dropping his suitcase to the floor. He dusted snow off his shoulders, stomped it off his boots. "Your baby boy has returned!"

Fran shuffled into the foyer, looking decidedly worse than he would've liked to see, but she wore a smile and had a ready embrace for him, so he decided not to comment on her appearance. It was getting harder for her to move around this big old house and he'd been pestering her for the better part of a year to let him move her into a smaller place, but she kept refusing on the grounds that it was where she had memories of her husband, her children growing up. If there was one thing Derek had inherited from his mother, it was her stubbornness...

"You're too skinny," Fran scolded, "Have you been eating enough?"

He rolled his eyes. "Mama, you need to stop worrying about me..."

She fixed him with a serious look. "Derek, I am your mother and so long as I'm living, I will never stop worrying about you."

His face fell at those words, though, because they both knew she might not live much longer...

"Don't," she scolded, "Don't look at me like that. I'm _fine_. I'm going to be fine."

He sighed. "I really wish you'd let me take you to New York or somewhere with specialists and equipment from this century... I know you've been seeing the same doctor since you moved here and you're friends, but you need to see someone who knows..."

"Derek, baby, I love you, but I don't need a lecture on my own treatment," she said firmly.

Sufficiently chastized, he nodded. "I'm sorry, Mama. I just don't want to see anything happen to you."

Smiling softly, she poured him a cup of coffee, set the mug in front of him. "How long do you plan on staying in town?" she asked, settling across from him.

"I'm here for the long haul, actually..." He shrugged. "Mandatory stress leave. Not my idea, but... It is what it is." He didn't seem too thrilled about it, but was trying to put on a brave face for her. "I'm renting a little place up the road for now."

Fran, though, had obviously been side-tracked. "You'll be here all December?"

He nodded.

"You should sign up for the Christmas Pen Pal event!" she exclaimed.

"The what now?" he asked, brow raised.

Fran was positively beaming. "Every year, the town holds this letter writing campaign – people are paired up and write letters to each other over December. They reveal themselves to each other on Christmas Day."

He raised a brow. "When you said 'paired up'...?"

She smiled mischievously. "Based on what you're looking for in a romantic partner," she said quietly.

He groaned, rolled his eyes. "Not this again, Mama..."

"Yes, this again," she insisted. "I want to see my son happy and in love before..."

"Nope. Don't say it. Nothing is going to happen to you."

Fran glared at him. "Derek James Morgan, your mother wants to see you happy."

"And a woman is the answer to that?" he asked skeptically. "Because in the past..."

She shook her head. "When you're ready, certain kinds of girls – the right kind of girls – will find you. It's only when you're ready, though."

He just laughed, stood to kiss the top of her head. "Oh, Mama, I will never get sick of your homespun nonsense."

"It's called _wisdom_ , young man," she teased.

He sighed. "I'll do it," he agreed, "But just so you quit badgering me."


	2. Chapter 2

**December 1st**

Emily stood at the cemetery gates, bouquet held limply in her hand as she struggled to muster the emotional fortitude to enter. It had taken her a full twenty-four hours to get this far and wasn't sure it wouldn't take another twenty-four to make it the rest of the way.

It wasn't that she didn't _want_ to visit him...but standing there, at his graveside, made things real in a way she could pretend they weren't the rest of the time.

Clyde Easter had been in perfect health the day he'd died. Maybe that's what was hardest about his death. If he'd been battled illness for many months, it would be different, she supposed. But one day, he'd been a healthy happy man buying paint for the nursery and the next, the police were asking her to come to the morgue to identify his body.

He'd been stopped at a red light when a drunk driver had careened headlong into the front of his car. The last thing he'd ever seen, the last thing he'd ever known was that he wasn't going to survive to see his child enter the world.

It had been the worst day of Emily's life. And she just couldn't bring herself to relive it by visiting his final resting place every week the way people in town seemed to think she ought to...

But after six months, she felt she needed to see him. Clyde had loved Christmas, had made a big deal of the holiday season. He'd been so excited to spend December getting ready for their first child. She had no idea how she was going to face a Christmas without him and she wanted to tell him so.

A voice from behind her startled her moment of silent introspection when it rang out, asking, "The gates locked?"

She whirled around, eyes wide in alarm. "Oh! No, I, umm... I was just trying to..." She gestured vaguely over her shoulder at the cemetery.

Derek nodded once in understanding. "Trying to work up the nerve to go inside," he finished for her.

Blinking back tears, she attempted a smile. "Are you here to..."

"My father," he answered her unarticulated question. Then, seemingly unable to stop talking, he said, "It's been twenty-five years since he passed, but every Christmas without him feels like the first..."

She nodded, not quite able to find a response.

"Can I walk with you?" he offered. At her raised brow, he added, "The path is icy and I'd hate to see you fall in your condition..."

"Oh." She nodded once. "Sure."

They walked in silence up to Clyde's grave and a moment of respectful silence followed as Derek paused to pay his respects. Then, recognition seemed to dawn on him. "You're Emily Prentiss?"

She nodded slowly. "I'm sorry – you are?"

"Derek Morgan," he said. "We grew up together... Not sure if you remember..."

"Right. Derek. Of course. You, umm...you look different," she said.

He nodded, but didn't comment further. "I'm sorry for your loss," he said instead. "I read about the accident in the paper..." A beat. "I didn't realize you were..." He gestured at her belly.

Her eyes turned sad as she stroked her belly. "Thirty-four weeks," she whispered.

He didn't seem to know how to respond. But then, no one really did.

"If you don't mind," she said gently, "I'd like to be alone now."

* * *

When Emily arrived home, a letter was waiting for her. Picking up the envelope, she flipped it over once, twice, inspecting it. There was no address, no postage. Just an unfamiliar handwriting labelling the recipient as _Silver Belle_.

She looked up to find JJ grinning at her over the rim of her coffee mug.

"What's this?" she asked, knowing that somehow, she was responsible.

JJ shrugged, playing at cluelessness.

"You signed me up for the Christmas Pen Pal thing?"

Another shrug.

" _Jayje_!" she said, exasperated. "I _told_ you..."

She didn't let Emily finish. "Em, this will be good for you," she insisted. "You've been so lonely since the accident – you need to make a friend."

"I thought this was Penelope's elaborate scheme to play matchmaker for the whole town?" she asked, still annoyed.

"It doesn't have to be," she insisted. "It's just two people who are compatible writing letters. That's all."

Emily rolled her eyes. "So, this isn't some big scheme to find me a new husband?"

JJ held up her hands in self-defence. "Purely platonic, I swear."

"Fine," she said, even though she appeared none too pleased anyway. "I'll write the damn letter."

* * *

_Dear Silver Belle;_

_I guess I'm not all that sure what to write. I was kind of emotionally blackmailed into writing this... I guess, though, I shouldn't complain, considering the fact that I don't exactly have a great history of meeting people the so-called old-fashioned way. (Let's just say that I haven't had a real friend since I was a kid...and even then I'm pretty sure she kind of hated me.)_

_Way to be a downer, right?_

_In spite of everything, I am actually excited about this whole experience. Christmas has always been my favourite time of year. I guess I've lost some of my enthusiasm for it over the years, but maybe this will bring back some of the magic I'm looking for._

_But enough about me..._

_In the spirit of the season – and of discovering more about my mystery damsel – I have some questions..._

_1\. Favourite Christmas movie? (Yes, there IS a right answer!)_

_2\. If you were writing a letter to Santa, what would you ask for?_

_3\. Your favourite family Christmas tradition?_

_4\. Your best Christmas memory?_

_5\. The best Christmas gift you ever got?_

_I know it's kinda cheesy and childish, but they're the only questions I can ask you without you giving away your secret identity...like Batman._

_Anyway. I guess I can't give you too much to go on either, so just call me_ Pilgrim _. (If you can guess the origin of the nickname, I'll know they matched me with the right girl...)_


	3. Chapter 3

**December 2nd**

JJ held Emily's hand as the doctor performed another ultrasound. She had been Emily's constant companion and support through the last six months – Emily wasn't sure how she would've survived the pregnancy without her.

"Baby's looking nice and big," the doctor commented. "You're almost full-term now – have you made your plans for the birth?"

Emily gave a nervous little laugh. "You mean, aside from freak out?" she said, a touch hysterically.

"We have a plan," JJ assured the doctor. "She just gets sarcastic when she's nervous."

"Understandable," the doctor agreed. "Your situation is certainly unique." She smiled compassionately. "Do you have names picked out?"

Eyes transfixed by the image of her child sucking its thumb in her womb, Emily murmured, "If it's a boy, Clyde II. If it's a girl. Clyde liked the name Flora...but I'm not sure how I feel about the name 'Easter Flowers'..."

JJ smiled softly. "You have some time to figure it out," she reassured.

"Well, everything looks really good," the doctor remarked. "You still don't want to know the gender?"

She shook her head. It was one of the few things Clyde had really wanted: to be surprised on the day their child was born.

"I'll give you a moment alone," the doctor said, departing the exam room.

Once the door clicked shut, Emily finally allowed the tears to well up, her eyes never leaving that little silhouette. "Do you think the baby looks like me or Clyde?"

JJ squeezed her hand. "That's a perfect little combination of the both of you," she murmured.

She sniffled. "I miss him so much, Jayje," she choked out, "This is easily the most terrifying thing I've ever had to do and I'm doing it alone."

"You're not alone, Em, you have me," she assured.

"It's just..."

JJ nodded her understanding. "It's not the same."

* * *

The two women were on their way to the little hospital cafe in search of a healthy snack to boost Emily's dropping blood sugar when they ran into one Derek Morgan. He gave a little half-wave at their approach, but dropped his hand back to his side when he noticed Emily's red-rimmed eyes.

It was too late, though, his presence had already been noted.

"Derek Morgan?" JJ exclaimed. "What are you doing back in town? Last I heard, you'd been made junior partner at some fancy law firm in Chicago..." She wrapped her arms around his neck in a friendly embrace.

Returning the hug, he replied, "It's a long story. The short version is: I'm here to look after Mama."

She nodded. "How's she doing? Everyone was so sad to hear the cancer's back..."

His eyes turned sad briefly. "She's doing well. The doctors are confident the chemo will be effective, but surgery is still on the table." He shrugged. "What about you, Princess?" he asked Emily, "How's Baby?"

She smiled weakly. "Doing good," she said softly, "Growing right on schedule."

"Glad to hear it. I'm sure that's one tough little peanut you've got in there."

Emily gave a wet little laugh at that. "Clyde used to call it Peanut..." she whispered.

Derek blanched a little. "Oh, I, umm... I'm sorry, I didn't know."

She shook her head. "Don't be sorry," she insisted. "It's a sign. He's still here. Watching over us."

* * *

It had taken Emily almost an entire month to realize she was pregnant. Her cycle had never been regular, which is part of why she didn't believe she could be pregnant in the first place. They'd been trying for a baby for years – Emily had refused to seek out medical help, afraid of hearing the news that there was no hope – and had never once gotten a positive pregnancy test.

Naturally, she had assumed that her nausea had other causes. At least, until Clyde had bought the pregnancy tests and wordlessly handed them to her.

"I can't," she choked out, shaking her head insistently. "Clyde..."

"Emily," he whispered, gently cupping her cheek. "We need to know."

She was struggling to blink back tears, even as she leaned into his touch. "But what if it's negative?" she whispered.

Stroking his thumb along her cheek bone, he murmured, "Then we'll get through it. Together."

It took six different tests before she would even begin to believe she really was pregnant. And even then, she wasn't completely convinced until the doctor ran a blood test, performed an ultrasound.

Only then did she dare to hope.

* * *

_Dear Pilgrim;_

_I wish I could tell you I shared your enthusiasm for this little friendship endeavour...but I was less blackmailed than I was blindsided. I'm trying to look on the bright side, though. Like you, I'm not exactly in any place to turn away a friend. Things haven't been easy for me lately._

_I don't exactly have much Christmas spirit this year. It was supposed to be the best year of my life, but...like I said..._ things _. So, you'll have to excuse me if I don't answer your questions – Christmas has never been my favourite time, not even when I was little._

_I always told myself that if I ever had kids, I'd make sure they fell in love with Christmas, the way I never did. I'd take them skating and then bundle them up and make them cocoa and we'd watch a Christmas movie together. I'd take them to see The Nutcracker every year. We'd all wear matching pyjamas on Christmas Eve and watch It's a Wonderful Life and have a family sleepover in the living room._

_Pretty cheesy, right?_

_Maybe the problem is that I just hoped too much. I pinned all my dreams for the future on this picture of perfection I'll just never quite reach. Maybe I'm just cursed._

_I guess you're probably wishing you had a different pen pal right about now, huh? Sorry you got stuck with a Debbie Downer like me..._

_~ Silver Belle_

_PS: Maybe I'm just a nerd, but your nickname wouldn't perchance be a reference to Billy Pilgrim, a la Kurt Vonnegut's Slaughterhouse Five?_


	4. Chapter 4

**December 3rd**

_Dear Silver Belle;_

_I don't think it's cheesy at all. In fact, I think it's sweet. That's what I want for my future. Well, assuming I ever settle down. I don't exactly have a great track record, but that's a long story. And this isn't about me._

_I know you're probably not looking for advice right now, at least, not from a stranger with terrible handwriting. But here's my two cents: do those things. All of them. You don't need to have kids to feel like a kid again._

_Go skating, even if you're bad at it and fall down a lot._

_Get all dressed up and go to the ballet._

_Find a friend and have a living room sleepover: eat popcorn and drink soda and stay up all night._

_Find your inner child again. You deserve that._

_\- Pilgrim_

_PS: Turns out, you're a nerd. A correct one._

* * *

"What are you up to today?" JJ asked, surprised to find Emily up and out of her pyjamas. "Got a got date?" she teased.

Instead of answering, she asked, "Do you own ice skates?"

She raised a brow. "Ice skates?" she repeated. "Since when do you go ice skating?"

"Well, I don't exactly... It's just..." She sighed, gestured helplessly. "It was kind of a suggestion from my pen pal."

JJ's brows leapt up her forehead. "So, it's going well?" she asked, though she seemed to have a million other questions on her mind.

She shrugged.

"Do you even know how to skate?"

She shrugged again. "I want to take my kid skating when they get old enough... I figured I should learn now." She paused for a long moment. "Clyde was always talking about these bonding moments like teaching our child to skate, to drive...to walk. He was always holding my hand and I couldn't wait to see him hold our baby's hand through all the firsts, the scary moments, the big moments...all of it. Now, all this baby has is me. I have to be the steady hand."

JJ looked like there were so many things she wanted to say to her, but couldn't quite seem to narrow it down.

Emily paused, thought. "What do you think my chances of breaking something are on the ice?"

"I'll meet you at the emergency room when you fall, okay?" she said, kissing her cheek.

* * *

Emily sat on one of the rink-side benches, watching the skaters, suddenly self-conscious. She'd gotten so far as to get her skates on, but seemed to have reached some kind of stall. She was in the process of nervously wringing her hands and internally debating something when someone settled next to her and remarked, "We've got to stop meeting like this..."

She glanced up, one brow immediately arching. "Derek? What are you doing here?"

He gestured vaguely at the skating rink.

"Right. Of course." She glanced at the skaters so he wouldn't notice the way her cheeks pinked in embarrassment at her own stupid question. "I didn't realize you were into ice skating."

"Actually, I'm supervising the youth centre kids," he corrected. "I try to make some time for them whenever I'm in town...which isn't quite as often as I'd like lately." He paused. "What about you?"

She huffed, staring down at her feet as if they'd personally wronged her. She gestured at her skates. "Apparently nothing, considering I can't reach to tie my skates around my belly..."

He raised a brow. "Do you want some help?"

She pouted. "The last thing I need is the help from my annoying pest of a next door neighbour from when I was eight," she said haughtily.

"But do you _want_ the help?"

She huffed again. "Yes please." She extended her feet in silent plea.

Smirking, he knelt down to tie the skates. "I didn't know you skated..."

"I don't," she said, "Well, I didn't. I, umm, I figured I should learn so I don't embarrass my little peanut."

Derek's eyes lit up. "Do you mean to tell me that the amazing Emily Prentiss doesn't know how to skate?"

Grumbling to herself, she admitted, "Technically speaking...no."

Struggling to keep his gloating under wraps, Derek offered, "Do you want me to help you?"

"No..."

"Really? Because I wouldn't want you to fall and hurt that little peanut..." he insisted.

She pursed her lips together, obviously not pleased with the turn this day had taken. At length, though, she declared, " _Fine_."

Standing up, he held out his hands to help her to her feet, holding her steady as she wobbled her way to the rink. Her grip on his hands was a little too tight to be comfortable, but he didn't complain, even as he was pretty sure his bones where cracking under the pressure.

"Nervous?" he asked.

"No," she insisted firmly. A beat. "Maybe."

He laughed a little, easily skating backwards as he supported her wobbling attempts at skating _forwards_. "Want to know my trick?"

She raised a brow, not looking all that thrilled by the prospect.

He told her anyway. "You have to pretend you're already good at skating."

She didn't seem to buy it.

"It's actually my trick to life," he continued. "Fake it 'til you make it." At her continued silence, he asked, "What? You don't believe me?"

"No, actually. There's a few holes in your plan," she insisted. She never met his gaze, though, too busy looking at her feet.

"Such as?"

She chanced a quick glance at his face...if only to fix him with an annoyed expression. "Childbirth."

For a few moments, he seemed dumbstruck. "Oh...well, you might actually be right about that. But it's the exception that proves the rule."

She scoffed.

There were several long moments of silence. "You're going to be a good mom, you know?"

She opened her mouth to respond, but she didn't get a chance because he burst out laughing. "What?"

"See? You're skating like a pro."

For a few moments, she sputtered, struggling to come up with a response to his gloating smile. "Yes, well...that's because you distracted me, not because I was applying your so-called _rule_..."

That didn't seem to phase him, though. He simply smirked at her like he'd won some kind of major victory. And damn if his smile wasn't convincing...


	5. Chapter 5

**December 4th**

"What the hell have you done to my kitchen?" JJ demanded, stopping at the threshold to stare dumbstruck at the chaos Emily had created in the short time she'd been left unsupervised. Not that she tended to treat Emily like a four year old, but she was pretty sure that when it came to cooking, based on past experience, it was warranted.

She had been called away on a work emergency and, considering the fact that she'd left Emily napping on the couch in front of the TV playing some Christmas movie that Emily claimed to hate but secretly loved, had thought nothing of it. As it turned out, though, she really should have been concerned...

"I woke up craving cookies," Emily said sheepishly. "You weren't here and I didn't want to walk to the store in the snow...I figured what could it hurt?"

"So you...mixed TNT with a bag of flour?" she asked, gesturing at the coating of flour on every surface, not least of which was Emily's entire outfit, featuring a powdery handprint on her belly.

Emily pouted. "Look, I'm not exactly Julia Child, okay? I did my best..." A beat. "At least nothing is on fire," she added petulantly.

In an attempt to pacify her, JJ tentatively took a bite from one of the nearby cooling gingerbread men, chewing slowly, thoughtfully for a moment. At first, it seemed that maybe Emily was better than JJ gave her credit for... Suddenly, though, she stopped, eyes going wide. She gagged, spit the cookie in her palm. "Are you trying to kill me?" she asked.

She pouted, mumbled, "I don't know what happened... I followed the recipe!"

"I'm sure you did your best," JJ murmured; feeling bad for her teasing she pulled her into a one-armed embrace. Then, under her breath, she added, "I'm just thankful for Alex's sake you weren't trying to enter the cookie contest."

Emily pursed her lips in thought. "Cookie contest?" she repeated.

She nodded. "You know, the town's annual contest to find the best amateur baker in town? The woman who runs the bakery judges it." She trailed off, frowning at the expression that was working its way across Emily's face. "What?"

"Nothing. You've just given me an idea..."

* * *

_Dear Pilgrim;_

_I took your advice and went ice skating... How did it go, you ask? Well...I daresay you'll easily identify me by my limp, given how many times I landed on my ass._

_I'm kidding...though I probably do have bruises all over._

_Either way, I'm glad I did it. I hadn't been skating in a very long time. I'm not sure I felt like a kid again, but I did find joy in the experience. If only briefly._

_Now, though, I present to you, a challenge of my own: enter the cookie contest. I'll enter as well, though I doubt I'll bring anyone joy with my entery..._

_My family never baked together – at Christmas, nor any other time. But maybe there's nothing that says you can't start anew, unburdened by what has been... And I'm starting to sound like a Charles Dickens character..._

_Anyway, maybe I'll see you at the contest._

_Good luck._

_~ Silver Belle_

* * *

"Derek, what did I tell you about snacking before dinner?" Fran scolded, batting his hands away from the pantry door.

"Mama!" he whined, withdrawing his hand with a whimper and a pout. "I'm a grown man..."

"You'll spoil your appetite," she maintained.

He reached for the pantry door again. "I'm not snacking, I'm baking cookies," he defended.

That seemed to surprise and possibly alarm Fran. "Baking cookies?" she repeated dumbly. "Why?"

"For the contest."

That didn't appear to make the situation any better for her. "Since when do you enter baking contests? I mean, you do remember the time you set my kitchen aflame baking my birthday cake?"

" _Mama_...that was _one_ time," he groaned. At her continued look of skepticism, he explained, "My pen pal kind of challenged me to enter the contest."

She nodded knowingly. "I've never known you to bake for a girl before..."

He shrugged, refusing to admit to anything. "Mama, don't let your imagination get the best of you. It's only December fourth afterall."

She maintained her smile, though. "I just want you to be happy."

"I am happy, Mama, 'cause I've got the best mother in the world," he said, kissing her temple.

She raised a brow. "You want my help making those cookies, don't you?"

"You're a three time winner... Of course, I do."

She winked. "Sorry, dear, but you're on your own. Wouldn't want to taint your victory."

Rolling his eyes, he reached for a cookbook, flipping through the pages in search of a recipe.

"Not that one," Fran hinted over his shoulder when his finger stopped on one of the recipes.

"Get out of my kitchen," he chastized, donning an apron.

She laughed as she scuttled off. "Just... Try not to start any fires, okay? _I_ love you, but the fire department really doesn't..."

In the margins of the cookbook, Derek found a little note scrawled in familiar childish handwriting. _'Emily_ _Loves_ _!'_ it said, featuring a little heart with a smiley face. (Beside that, he'd written the word _BUTTS_ because he'd been ten and a jerk.)

Chuckling to himself, he couldn't help but remember the day they'd written that. Elizabeth had left Emily in Fran's care for the weekend to attend some kind of conference after having berated the latest nanny to the point of quitting on the spot. Emily had been sullen and sulky...but that had quickly changed when Fran promised her chocolate cookies.

(Emily hadn't said so, but Derek was pretty sure it was less the cookies she'd been eager for than it was some kind of maternal presence. Not that he'd known at the time...back then, he'd mostly been concerned with annoying the ever-living shit out of Emily, considering the fact that he'd had an all-consuming crush on her. Emily, on the other hand, hated his guts.)

He supposed, not that much had changed. Especially the fact that he could never have her.


	6. Chapter 6

**December 5th**

Emily set her plate of cookies on the judging table, suddenly feeling rather inadequate as she looked at all the beautifully decorated entries.

"How'd you get roped into this baking debacle?" a voice asked from nearby.

She looked up sharply, startled. She attempted a polite smile at the man she found depositing his own entry on the table. "Someone told me I'm not a good baker," she said ominously.

He laughed good-naturedly. "Ah, a fellow retaliation baker..." At her raised brow, he explained, "My daughter told me I'm a terrible cook."

"Maybe we should start a club," she deadpanned. She turned then and saw his eyes widen as he noticed her belly.

He hid his surprise well, though. "So, you got a bossy little bean calling the shots in there?"

She glanced down, stroked her belly. "Takes after their father," she murmured. "He never liked my cooking either."

"Oh," he stammered. "Is... Is he here cheering you on?"

She cleared her throat. "He passed away."

"I'm sorry," he apologized.

But before he could say anything more, a little girl came bounding up. "Daddy, they're going to start judging soon..." She came to a sudden stop upon spotting Emily. "Who's your friend, Daddy?"

He paused, looking expectantly at her until she realized she hadn't introduced herself. "I'm Emily," she said with a gentle smile at the girl.

"Keely," she replied, reaching to shake her hand. "And that's my dad, Andrew." Then, a pause. "Can I?" she asked, pointing at her belly.

"Keely!" Andrew scolded, "That's not polite – she's a stranger and..."

Emily shook her head. "It's fine." She moved her coat aside so Keely could press a hand to her belly.

The girl giggled. "The baby's kicking!" she exclaimed to her father.

At that moment, Derek came sidling up to wrap his arm around her shoulder. "Hey, Princess," he greeted brightly, "Making friends?"

"Hello, Derek," she said darkly. "What are you doing here?"

"Hoping to get the leftovers," he joked. Then, his eyes went wide. "Wait...don't tell me _you_ entered the contest!?"

She quirked a brow. "Is that a problem?" she asked, unamused.

"Well, I just didn't see the ambulance here, so..."

She huffed, crossing her arms over her chest. "You're very funny... I'll have you know I've improved since I was ten."

"You two are old friends?" Andrew asked.

Still glowering, she said firmly, "If that..."

Derek interrupted, gently tugging her away, "If you'll excuse me, I need to steal her away for a moment."

"What are you doing?" she hissed, snatching her arm away from his grip. "I was having a nice conversation and you so rudely interrupted..."

" _Rudely_? I _saved_ you," he insisted.

She scoffed. "Saved me from the nice man and his daughter?"

He rolled his eyes. "You are so naive – he was looking at you like he wasn't sure whether he wanted to eat you or f-..."

She held up one hand to interrupt. "I'm almost eight months pregnant, you think I'm just going to jump the bones of any guy who comes along?" she snapped. "Boy, you must not think very much of me..."

"It's not you, it's _him_ ," he insisted. "Guys are only after one thing."

It was her turn to roll her eyes. "Sorry, _Mom_...want to give me a lecture on birth control too?"

"Emily, I'm trying to help you."

"Well, you know what, Derek? I don't need your _help_. I'm a grown woman, I can look after myself!" she said, trying to keep her voice level to avoid attracting stares.

Their squabbling was cut short when Fran joined them, smiling up at her son like he'd hung the moon. Then, teasingly, she asked, "Derek, why haven't you introduced me to your pretty friend?"

Smiling down at his mother, then glancing back up at Emily, he said, "Mama, you know Little Em...she's all grown up now."

Fran pulled Emily into an embrace without warning. "All grown up and expecting a little one of her own..." She extended her out to arms' reach to get a better look at her. "Oh, Emily, you're glowing. How far along are you?"

"Almost thirty-six weeks," she murmured. "I'm almost ready for this to be over..."

Fran nodded knowingly. "I know exactly what you're going through. It gets pretty uncomfortable near the end." A beat. "But it's all worth it in the end."

She nodded. "It _will_ be nice not to have my feet hurt every time I stand for more than five minutes," she joked.

"Well, you absolutely must join us for dinner," Fran declared, "I bet you haven't had a real home-cooked meal in months."

Emily laughed softly. "JJ's a good cook, but not as good as you, Mrs. Morgan."

"Please, Dear, call me Fran."

* * *

_Dear Silver Belle;_

_I can't say the world – or Alex – is better off for my attempts at baking cookies, judging by the expression on her face when she tasted them... I can, though, say that I'm better off for having attempted it._

_Baking used to be a part of my family's Christmas traditions, but...well, with time, I guess I drifted away from my family and our traditions. This was a nice reminder. For a long time, I've felt like maybe I didn't have room for old traditions in my new life, but I'm starting to think that maybe I need them more than I realized._

_The clean up the kitchen required afterwards, though...not quite as fun. I think I still have flour in places flour should never ever be..._

_So, tell me a story. The story of why you love The Nutcracker so much. I've never actually seen it before... Is that weird? Maybe you'll convince me to check it out._

_Honestly, I'm more of a watch Diehard and eat junk food kind of guy. Maybe we can swap – I'll check out the ballet, you watch Bruce Willis kill some terrorists._

_It's weird, but I feel like you're one of the closest friends I have right now. It's been a long time since I've really connected with someone. Maybe I'm imagining things, but I'm glad I did this. I'm glad to get to know you._

_\- Pilgrim_


	7. Chapter 7

"Get up," JJ demanded, knocking on Emily's bedroom door.

Emily grunted in response, but failed to comply.

"Come on, sleepyhead," she persisted. "We've got places to be. Get up."

After a few moments, the door swung open, revealing Emily wrapped up in a loose sweater, bleary-eyed and frowning.

JJ attempted a sweet smile, an apology for the rude awakening. "Get dressed – we're going out for breakfast," she persisted.

Glancing back over her shoulder at the bedside alarm clock, she argued, "But it's almost eleven..."

"Well, brunch then."

"But..." she tried to argue.

JJ wasn't listening, though. "Get dressed."

* * *

"Surprise!" the crowd shouted at Emily's emergence into the little cafe, causing her to to blink in stunned silence for a few moments while her brain played catch-up.

"It's your baby shower," JJ supplied helpfully.

She nodded slowly a few times. "Wow... You guys... Wow!" It was clear she was overwhelmed by the unexpected crowd, but was doing her best to hide it.

In the next moment, she was engulfed by a signature Penelope Garcia embrace. "Oh, Emily the Strange and Beautiful, I'm so excited to celebrate you and your little jellybean!" she trilled.

"Me too," Emily supplied, "Or I will be when you stop pushing the baby into my bladder..."

Backing off, she smiled apologetically. "Sorry, I'm just so excited!"

Smiling her thanks, Emily settled back in a chair. "You guys didn't have to do this," she insisted. "It's too much..."

"Em, you have a lot of friends who love you and want to celebrate you and your baby," JJ murmured.

* * *

Emily was sitting on the sidelines of the party, quietly prodding at her cake with her fork when someone settled next to her without a word.

They sat in companionable silence for a few moments, then the newcomer murmured, "I heard you like chocolate cake the best, but Penelope convinced me to go with vanilla because she wanted the pink and blue sprinkles inside."

Emily smiled softly. "Penelope Garcia can be surprisingly convincing when she wants to be," she agreed. "I don't mind, though."

"Then what's making you look so forlorn?" Alex asked. "If you feel like sharing."

"It's just... Clyde would have been the life of this party," she murmured. "He was so much fun. He always made me laugh, reminded me to be fun too, to not be afraid to look a little silly if it made me happy."

Alex nodded her understanding. "He was a good man," she agreed. "He came in every single week after you found out you were pregnant to get you a chocolate croissant. He was always so excited too – he loved to tell me how big the baby was, how you were feeling. He was so ready to be a father."

Emily let out a shaky breath, attempting a smile. "He would've been the best dad," she said. "I was never sure how I'd do as a mother, but I never doubted him."

"I know you'll be a great mom," Alex assured her.

Chewing her lip in thought, Emily admitted, "I'm not so sure sometimes. When he was here, it was like... I knew that I could face anything so long as he was beside me, you know?"

Alex reached over to gently squeeze her knee in a gesture of silent comfort.

"He made me feel strong and capable and...I don't know...like I could be a mother. I've been so scared about becoming a parent for the entire time it took us to get pregnant, scared that I'll fail, that I'll screw up my child because I had no role model of what a good mother is. But Clyde refused to let me think like that because he always believed I'd be a good mother. He was my rock."

Alex nodded her understanding. "Well, you have a community of people here who love you and want to support you. You can lean on us, you know? We can be your rock, if you let us."

Emily smiled softly. "I really do appreciate everything you've all done for me – I know I could never have survived the last few months without all of your support."

* * *

"What are you doing here?" Emily asked as she stepped out of the cafe, balloons in hand (Garcia had convinced her to take a few photos, all pink and blue balloons and hands on her belly...).

Derek didn't answer, instead looking her up and down, brow raised. "What's with the get up?"

"I'm taking some pictures," she said plainly, "To celebrate my baby shower."

"Ah... I'm betting this was _your_ idea?" he said to Penelope who merely shrugged, smirked. He turned back to Emily. "Baby shower, huh?"

She shrugged. "Not my idea."

He laughed. "I bet it wasn't."

" _Anyway_ , what _were_ you doing here?" she demanded again.

He shrugged. "I heard there was cake," he admitted. "I never turn down free cake."

She rolled her eyes.

"Come on, Em," he needled her, "Where's your Christmas spirit?" When she remained glaring at him, he lifted her in his arms like he was preparing to carry her over the threshold like newlyweds.

She squealed. "Derek! Put me down!"

"Nope. Not until you say I can have cake..." he teased.

She huffed. "You are a child, Derek!"

He spun her around. "At least one of us is having fun."

JJ emerged then with a plate of cake. "Happy now?"

"Absolutely!" And without warning, he dabbed his fingers in the icing, then smeared it across Emily's face.

And, at that moment, Garcia snapped a photo, much to Emily's chagrin.

* * *

_Dear Pilgrim;_

_Sorry for what's surely going to be a dreary letter. Today has taken a lot out of me. Christmas is weird, huh? It brings out so much good in people, but sometimes you can still feel so alone..._

_With you, I don't feel so alone, though. Even if I only know you as the guy with terrible handwriting and worse baking skills. I know we've only shared a carefully edited version of our lives, but I still feel I can be honest with you._

_The story of The Nutcracker started when I was a kid. My dad used to take me to the ballet every year – it was the only time it was just the two of us, which is what I wanted all year long._

_But when I was eight, he left. I wrote him a letter every year and sent him tickets that I saved up all year to buy. But he never came._

_Not sure why I still love going, but it's just kind of stuck with me. One thing I always promised myself was that if I had kids, I'd never abandon our traditions together, no matter how busy I got._

_I'm not mad at my father, really. I just want to do better._ Be _better._

_Anyway...what about you? Where does the Diehard love come from? Why not, you know, a_ normal _Christmas movie like The Grinch?_

_And since we're sharing... Do you really think it's possible to find_ real _love this way? Are you even looking for something real or are we just making friends? Because honestly...I don't even know what I'm doing here. Things are complicated for me, so, please...tell me the truth._

_~ Silver Belle_


	8. Chapter 8

**December 7th**

Emily stood in front of the full-length mirror, smoothing the dress she was trying on over her belly. She hummed a note of frustration. It was the seventh dress she'd tried on and she was getting nowhere.

That morning, she'd realized that she had no formal dress to wear to the ballet that evening that fit over her almost full-term pregnant belly, leaving her no choice but to scramble to find something appropriate to wear.

She hadn't realized that was such an enormous ask, though...

She turned to get a view of the dress from the back and was startled when she came face to face with Derek. He let out a low wolf whistle, looking her up and down. "Whoa, Princess!" he exclaimed, "That dress... Wow."

Her cheeks pinked as she looked down at the floor, suddenly shy. "What... What are you doing in a women's clothing store?" she asked.

"Picking out a nice blouse," he joked, winking at her. "I'm kidding. They have scarves and gloves, which is what Mama wants for Christmas."

"Ah. So, your ogling was just happenstance?"

He shrugged. "Guess I just got lucky. What's the fancy get up for anyway?" he asked. Without thought, he reached out to tuck a stray lock of hair behind her ear.

She cleared her throat. "I'm going to see The Nutcracker tonight," she explained. "But I've outgrown all my maternity dresses. I didn't realize they don't make maternity dresses for _whales_ , though..."

"You're not a whale, Em," he insisted. "You're glowing."

She rolled her eyes. "You're sweet. You're a liar, but you're sweet."

"What's wrong with this dress?" he asked. "It's cute."

She shrugged, not quite sure how to explain the problem.

He raised a brow. "Is there actually a problem or are you just looking for a problem so you won't have to go tonight?"

She sputtered for a few moments, indignant.

When she couldn't seem to find a response, he smirked.

She rolled her eyes. "Listen, I haven't been to the ballet alone since, well... Since I met Clyde."

"Oh, umm..." He winced, suddenly feeling guilty for bringing up the touchy subject. "I'm sorry. I was just trying to help."

She nodded, sniffled. "I know. You're always trying to help – you have a saviour complex, Derek Morgan."

"Let me save you one more time," he coaxed. When she raised a questioning brow, he explained, "Let me join you at the ballet tonight."

She scoffed. "Why would _you_ offer to go to the ballet?" she asked. "Unless you were trying to show off how cultured you are to some girl whose pants you want to get into...and I _know_ that isn't me because I doubt you're into maternity pants."

"Because I want to help a friend."

"A friend?" she repeated. "Since when are we friends? I thought we hated each other..."

He chuckled. "That's _your_ opinion," he teased. "I always just thought you were playing hard to get."

"You wish."

"So, can I take you to the ballet tonight or not?" he persisted.

She sighed. "Fine. But only if I can find a dress that doesn't make me feel like a house..."

He looked like he wanted to make a joke, but instead, he reached for a nearby red velvet dress. "What about this one?"

"Hmm..." She took the dress, examining it. "I guess it's not terrible," she conceded.

"Not terrible? I'll have you know I have a very sharp eye for fashion – I have two sisters afterall..." She didn't seem convinced, so he made a shooing motion toward the change room. "Try it on, Princess."

When she emerged in the dress, he couldn't help but grin.

"What?" she asked, pouting.

"Nothing...it's just... You look amazing," he said, eyes wide as he stared.

She obviously didn't believe him, but her cheeks pinked anyway.

* * *

As they drove home after the ballet, Derek kept glancing at Emily, watching as she stared vacantly out the window. "I can feel you staring at me," she said eventually.

"Not staring," he insisted. "Just...wondering what you're thinking."

She turned her head to give him a pointed look. "Really? So, you're _not_ staring at my breasts?"

"They started it," he joked. "But seriously, are you okay?"

She shrugged. "Just thinking about how all the traditions Clyde and I spent years creating – traditions like going to the ballet together, like picking out the perfect Christmas tree and decorating it in our pyjamas, like watching _It's a Wonderful Life_ on Christmas Eve... I never knew it was the last time we'd ever do them together, I didn't appreciate how precious those moments were at the time."

He reached across the centre console to squeeze her hand. "I'm sorry, Em, I know this must be incredibly difficult for you...and if there's anything I can do for you..."

She smiled faintly. "Thank you, Derek. You really don't have to..."

"Well, I want to," he insisted, pulling the car to the curb.

Glancing out the window, she frowned. "Where are we?"

He handed her a box. "First, open this."

Trepidatiously, she lifted the lid off the box. "Is this...a key?" she stammered, brow rising. "For what?"

He nodded toward the nearest house.

* * *

_Dear Silver Belle;_

_I have to admit, you might be onto something with the ballet... Just don't tell anyone I said that – I've got a tough guy reputation to uphold. (Though, I may have to rethink just how tough I am, having seen those male dancers. I swear some of them had twenty-four packs!)_

_I think the best part was that I got to share it with a friend. I came into town feeling like I had no one, but I'm starting to realize I've got more people in my corner than I even realized._

_To answer your question: I used to watch Diehard with my dad when I was a kid. We'd have a guy's night together – no girls allowed – and we'd watch the movie and eat junk food my mom didn't like us to have and stay up late together. It's one of my favourite memories of spending time together. And even though he's passed, I still make time for Diehard and know that he's there with me._

_And as far as your other question goes... I hadn't really expected anything going into this, since it wasn't exactly my idea. But now...I'm not sure what to think. I know that I feel an inexplicable kinship between us and, maybe, there's a chance it could turn into something more. I'm certainly not about to discount the possibility._

_Afterall, stranger things have happened._

_\- Pilgrim_


	9. Chapter 9

**December 8th**

"He really just _gave_ you a house?" JJ asked incredulously for approximately the fiftieth time that morning. "Just gave it to you, no questions asked?"

Emily shrugged, no closer to understanding what had happened than she'd been the night before. Maybe if she'd been able to drink coffee, she would've been a little less bewildered and a little more conversational. As it was, though, her side of the conversation was mostly comprised of grunts and helpless gestures.

"I thought he didn't even live in town anymore," JJ continued, "Why does he even _have_ a house? A house he doesn't even live in?"

"He keeps a property or two in town to renovate when he's here," she explained. "He gives them to families in need at low cost when he's finished. It's like his way of giving back to the community, I guess."

She nodded slowly. "That's admirable. He's a good guy...a catch, really. I know you and him have this weird childhood vendetta against each other, but..." She trailed off, shrugging.

Rolling her eyes, Emily said, "I don't _hate_ him. He's just...annoying."

It was JJ's turn to roll her eyes. "You're such a child sometimes." And before Emily could retort, she changed the subject, "So, are you going to take the house?"

"I don't know," Emily admitted. "I mean, it would be nice to have my own space – space for the baby – and not be a burden on you all the time. But I don't know if I can do this without having you by my side all the time."

JJ nodded her understanding. "First things first: you are _not_ a burden, okay? And second, you absolutely can do this. And I'll still be by your side whether you live with me or not. You never have to do any of this alone."

Emily smiled her appreciation, but said nothing.

"Why don't we go check out the place together?" JJ suggested. "Maybe you'll feel differently now that you've had a little time to sit with the idea..."

"Can we stop and get cinnamon buns on the way?" Emily asked, visibly perking up at the prospect.

* * *

When Emily unlocked the door and opened it to let JJ inside the house, she could hear distant noises of unclear origin. "Hello?" she called out. "Is someone there?" Her mind instantly landed on scenarios involving her having to fend off a burglar with her bare hands...or run away, neither of which as an appealing prospect at eight months pregnant.

"Shit..." someone hissed from somewhere inside.

"Derek?" Emily called out, this time a little exasperated as she followed the sounds. "What are you doing h-?" She trailed off as she emerged into the living room, coming to a sudden stop on the threshold.

Her eyes went wide as she scanned the room which, since her tour last night, had been decorated within an inch of its life. And, in the corner of the room, Derek was currently struggling to erect the tallest Christmas tree she'd ever seen.

"Oh... Hey, Princess..." he stammered, peering at her between the branches. "I didn't think you'd come by so early."

She nodded slowly, vacantly, still staring at the tree like she'd never seen one before. "I just wanted to show JJ and... _What_ exactly are you doing?"

Panting slightly from the exertion of getting the tree to stand independently, he finally emerged from between the branches, wiping sap on his jeans. "I wanted to surprise you," he confessed. "I had a feeling that putting up decorations probably wasn't on your list of priorities this year. And I thought that maybe seeing it all dolled up might make you see the magic of the place."

"Oh, Derek..." she whispered.

"Before you say anything," he continued, "The decorations are a loan – luckily Mama has more decorations than God himself – but I just would have hated to see you bring your little tyke home to a bare living room, you know?"

For several long moments, Emily blinked in stunned silence as she surveyed Derek's handiwork.

After an uncomfortably long time, his expression fell a little. "You hate it, don't you? It's okay, I'll take it down and..."

"No!" she yelped. A beat. Her cheeks pinking at her sudden outburst, she rephrased, "I mean...you put a lot of work into this. It would be a shame to let that go to waste."

For his part, he decided not to rub in the fact that she was more of a softy than she cared to let on. "Well, alright then. I'll get out of your hair and let you two do whatever it is that you girls get up to..."

JJ, who had silently been observing the conversation from just over Emily's shoulder, joined them in the living room then. "Please, stay."

Emily shot her a glare, but JJ determinedly pretended not to notice.

* * *

_Dear Pilgrim;_

_Don't worry, your secret is safe with me. Even if I don't see what's so embarrassing about enjoying a little culture...even if said culture is kind of girly._

_I'm only kidding. I appreciate that you gave it a chance at my behest. I suppose, considering your compliance, I'll have to give Diehard a chance._

_I'm going to confess to you that I recently had a relationship end and it was...well...let's say_ messy _. I'm not sure my heart will ever fully heal from that. I'm also unsure if I'm ready to move past what happened. And, to be honest, if you're looking for something uncomplicated and_ _clean, maybe you'd be better off to look elsewhere._

_I like you, really, I do. But I don't want you to expect that when we reveal ourselves on Christmas, that I'll fall into your arms like a Disney Princess meeting her Prince Charming._

_Maybe in a few years things might be different. Or maybe not. I really can't say._

_With that in mind, if you don't want to waste anymore time writing to me, I'll understand. Everyone eventually leaves me anyway._

_Goodbye for now. And possibly forever._

_~ Silver Belle_


	10. Chapter 10

**December 9th**

Emily lay back on the couch, hand on her belly, counting Baby's movements as she watched home movies on her laptop. She had headphones pressed against the swell of her stomach so the baby could hear Clyde's voice.

"Hear that, Peanut?" Emily asked. "That's your Daddy... He loved you so much, you know?"

A twitch of movement under her palm.

"Yeah, you love your Daddy, don't you?" she murmured.

JJ settled next to her on the couch, glancing at the laptop screen. "So, what's Baby listening to today?"

She sniffled softly. "Christmas baking misadventures," she said, turning on the volume so JJ could hear.

" _What are you doing, Em?" Clyde's voice asked from behind the camera._

"Clyde _," she whined. "Don't make fun of me..."_

" _Tell me what you did, Em," he persisted._

_She groaned, pouted. "Baking," she mumbled._

_He chuckled. "Baking_ what _?"_

_She huffed, glancing down at the cookie sheet. "Gingerbread men."_

" _Let me see..."_

" _Noooo," she whined, attempting to hide the cookie sheet with her body. "_ Clyde _..."_

_He moved the camera so his face could be seen as he smirked, mugging for the camera. "You burned them, didn't you?" he teased._

_She shrugged. "A little."_

_He finally got a good look at the cookies – every last one of them burnt to an unrecognizable crisp. "Em! Space vehicles return to the Earth with less charring!"_

"You two were so cute," JJ murmured. "He loved you _so_ much."

She nodded, sniffling, still feeling for kicks beneath her palm.

A beat.

"Do you think you'll ever find it again?" she asked softly. "What you had with him?"

Emily chewed at her lip, deep in thought. "I don't know," she admitted, "Part of me doesn't believe I can ever love someone the same way – with all my heart. Maybe you only get that once in your life."

"I don't believe that," JJ said, "I believe you have enough love in your heart for Clyde's memory and someone new. I know it doesn't feel that way now, but with time..."

She nodded, tongue flicking out over her bottom lip. Something seemed to occur to her then. "Is this why you signed me up for the pen pal thing?"

"No," JJ insisted. "Honestly. I just thought you needed a little distraction."

Giving a wet little laugh, Emily said, "Got any more distractions up your sleeve?"

"Just one...but I'm not sure you're going to like it," she admitted.

"What is it?" she asked, deadpan.

JJ plastered on a grin. "Derek's looking for volunteers to help out at the youth centre with some kind of gingerbread thing."

"Gingerbread thing?" Emily repeated dubiously. "Did you even watch that video?"

With a laugh, JJ explained, "I'm pretty sure they're just building gingerbread houses – no baking involved." Then, under her breath, she added, "And I'm pretty sure that there's some kind of municipal ordinance against letting you bake without supervision..."

* * *

"You like her, don't you?" JJ said knowingly to Derek, walking up to him where he was watching Emily attempt to get her gingerbread house to hold together.

He whipped around to face her, apparently startled by her presence. "What? No! I don't... I'm not..."

JJ smirked, entirely too self-satisfied for his liking. "Liar. You look like a twelve year old with his first crush."

"Do not," he grumbled. But his attention had already been drawn back to Emily who had since had her lap (what there was to be had, belly considered) occupied by a young girl who was eating candies off her gingerbread house.

"You should ask her out," JJ prodded.

He gave her a dubious look. "A: she hates me, has since we were kids. B: she's pregnant. And, most importantly, C: she's still not over her husband's death. Which part of that makes you think she'd want to go out with me?"

"Well, it doesn't have to be romantic, at least at first. Be her friend and let things happen naturally. There's a thin line between enmity and love afterall..."

Derek rolled his eyes. "You're starting to sound like Penelope," he warned.

She shrugged. "What can I say, she's a wise woman. So, are you going to ask Em out for coffee or not?"

"None of your business, Nosy Rosie," he scolded. And with that, he crossed the room to sit next to Emily. "How's it going over here?" he asked. "Has Miss Emily been making this big mess?"

"Hey!" Emily said with a pout. "I'll have you know I worked my a- _butt_ off to get this stupid house to stand upright and it still looks like the Tower of Pisa."

The little girl on her lap smiled up at her. "I like it!" she declared firmly.

Derek laughed, tickled her side. "You just like it because she's letting you eat all the gumdrops off it," he teased. But over her head, he smiled at Emily, tipped her a wink, trying not to examine why the sight of her with kids made his heart clench.

* * *

_Dear Silver Belle;_

_You're not going to scare me off._

_Here's the thing about love – and, I guess by extension, life – is messy. Even when it's good. I don't mean to demean whatever it was that you went through, it's never easy to have your heart broken, but I think hearts are more like that Japanese pottery thing where they repair cracks and breaks with gold, you know? There's no such thing as a clean break, but there's beauty in brokenness._

_I guess that's all a long-winded philosophical way of saying that I'm not going anywhere. I'm sticking out what we started. Even if, on Christmas, all I'm left holding is a stack of letters._

_I'd like to think we're friends...and one thing you should know about me is that I never abandon a friend in need. And it sounds like you really need a friend right now. So, you'd better get used to having me around because I'm here to stay._

_Got it?_

_\- Pilgrim_

_PS: Since I think you could really use a little pick-me-up, when you get this letter, go to the bakery and you'll find a little surprise to lift your spirits..._


	11. Chapter 11

**December 10th**

Emily was feeling admittedly a little trepidatious as the little bell overhead tinkled as she opened the bakery door, letting a gust of cold air into the little shop, heated as it was by ovens churning out Christmas orders. She wasn't entirely sure what had compelled her to trust her mysterious letter writer, other than that she felt in her gut that he was _safe_...

"Good morning, Emily," Alex greeted. "Let me guess: one chocolate croissant?"

Emily smiled softly at the memory of Clyde greeting her every Sunday morning with a warm croissant from the bakery and momentarily, she debated whether she did, in fact, want one. "Actually, I'm here for...something," she said vaguely at length.

"Could you be a little more specific?" Alex inquired.

She shrugged. "My pen pal said there would be a surprise for me..."

A knowing look crossed Alex's face. She disappeared into the back briefly before returning with a little white bakery box tied up with a shiny red ribbon.

Emily eyed it suspiciously for a moment as if afraid it might explode at any moment. When she untied the ribbon and lifted the lid, she was briefly silent as if not quite sure what to think.

"What is _that_?" Garcia asked, appearing suddenly over her shoulder.

"Lebkuchen heart," Emily explained. "It's a German version of gingerbread. I had a German nanny when I was younger and she used to make them for me." She looked up at Alex who was still smirking at her like she knew something Emily didn't. "Wait! You know who left this for me, don't you?"

"Sorry," she said with a shrug. "It was an anonymous order."

Garcia was still peering over her shoulder. "What's it say?"

_A cookie heart's the place to start_

_The game's afoot, you'd best depart._

_To find your second clue today_

_Find what makes the Yuletide gay:_

_At the tree lot ask for Jack._

_You'll get your Christmas spirit back._

Garcia shrieked an ear-splitting sound. "OMG!" she trilled, "A Christmas treasure hunt! _Sooooo_ cute!"

Secretly, Emily agreed...just not so loudly.

* * *

The town's Christmas tree lot was run by a fellow widower. He'd moved to town with his son after his wife was murdered – the town had gossiped about it for _months_. Apparently, he'd been a criminal prosecutor in New York and one of the felons he'd put away had escaped from prison and murdered his wife in revenge.

Emily felt for the man, but she'd never actually spoken with him.

As she wandered through the snowflake dusted trees, she wondered if this wasn't some elaborate ploy orchestrated by Garcia and JJ to get the town's widow and widower together...

Her thoughts were interrupted by a little voice shouting, "BOO!" Its owner leapt out from behind one of the trees wearing an impish grin.

Crouching down as best she could, Emily got on eye level with the child. "Are you Jack?" she asked with a maternal smile.

He nodded eagerly. "Are you Miss Emily?"

She nodded in return.

He produced a little wrapped gift from one of his pockets. "I's s'posta give you this," he informed her as if it were a very serious duty.

"Why thank you, Jack," she said, taking the gift in her mittened palm.

He waited for about ten seconds before demanded, "You gotta open it!"

With a little laugh, the pulled off her mitten with her teeth so she could unwrap it. The glittering green paper fell away to reveal a little glass ornament in the shape of a star, giving off rainbows every time the light hit it.

Jack's brows knit together. "Oh..." he said, clearly disappointed.

But she was still smiling softly, oblivious to the boy's reaction as she read the poem on the backside of the wrapping paper.

_Twinkle twinkle little star,_

_How I wonder who you are._

_I'll find out on Christmas Day..._

_It seems so very far away._

_I'll just have to wait and see_

_Underneath the Christmas tree._

_Until then, find your next prize_

_With three men who are so wise._

* * *

At the church's Nativity display, Emily found one of the Wise Men clutching a wrapped package which, when unpacked, was revealed to be a vintage copy of _Slaughterhouse Five_. She'd been stunned to the point of barely breathing as she stared at its cover for a solid three minutes.

Hidden among the pages, she'd found the next note:

_I got my nickname from this book,_

_Between the covers, take a look._

_It's kind of nerdy, I confess_

_But I met you, so I am blessed..._

_The next clue is the last one,_

_I hope you've had some Christmas fun._

_To find it, go to your backyard..._

_You'll find out why I love Diehard!_

* * *

When Emily arrived back at home, she found the yard had been converted into a private cinema...

An inflatable kiddie pool had been filled with blankets and pillows. A sheet had been hung between two trees, creating a screen, at which a projector was aimed. A little table had been laid out with hot chocolate and an assortment of Christmas cookies and other snacks.

Emily turned to JJ who was standing on the back porch looking out at the set-up, seeming just as stunned as her. "Did you see who did this?" she demanded.

JJ shook her head. "I was out all morning. I just got here..." She let out a low whistle. "Whoever your pen pal is, they must really want to make you happy."

* * *

_Dear Pilgrim;_

_What you did..._

_I still can't believe you went to so much trouble for me – a woman you barely know. It was so thoughtful, so kind...it brought tears to my eyes seeing the lengths to which you went to make me smile._

_The book especially... I can count on one hand the number of people I know who love Vonnegut as much as I do._

_As for Diehard... Well, it's no_ It's a Wonderful Life _, but I guess I can see the appeal. It may just find its way into my annual traditions._

_~ Silver Belle_

_PS: I'd like to do something for you in return, but I haven't yet decided what that will be... You set the bar rather high._


	13. Chapter 13

"This guy must really be something special..." JJ remarked as she entered the kitchen, watching Emily whistle to herself as she made toast and chopped fruit for her breakfast. "You seem...happy."

Emily stopped suddenly, standing frozen. "I didn't know you were standing there," she mumbled.

JJ just smirked, shrugged.

"What?" she harrumphed.

"Nothing. I'm just glad to see you happy again. I was worried," she murmured. She watched as Emily's face seemed to fall. "You know you're allowed to be happy, even if he's not here, right?" she whispered.

A beat.

"I know..." she said slowly.

JJ sighed, crossed the kitchen to take the knife from Emily's hand where it had stilled. "It's what he would want."

She nodded slowly. "But..."

"Moving forward doesn't have to mean moving on..." Setting the knife aside, she wrapped Emily in a hug.

Returning the embrace, Emily asked, "What am I going to do now?"

Rubbing her back, she said, "You find happiness. Maybe even love one day. You have your baby and teach them about strength and resilience and what it means to remember someone always. You...live." She shrugged, because what else was there to say?

Another pause.

"I meant about my pen pal."

"Oh." JJ laughed. "Well, you want to thank him for the treasure hunt thing, right?" A nod. "What if you did something to mark the things you've shared?"

A thoughtful expression crossed Emily's face.

* * *

_Dear Pilgrim;_

_I've put a lot of thought into how I can best thank you for the wonderful day you gave me..._

_I don't know that I could ever plan something quite so thoughtful and elaborate, even at my best. But I did manage to pull a little something together..._

_It might be a little cheesy, but I'm hoping you'll enjoy it anyway._

_To find out what it is, head to the little greenhouse where they grow the poinsettias. You'll know what you see it..._

_~ Silver Belle_

* * *

Derek showed up to the greenhouse, unsure what exactly to expect, but eager to find out all the same. When he pushed the door open, he immediately felt the sweltering heat of the confined glass enclosure.

He followed the path through the rows of flower pots until something caught his eye among the red petals. He paused, reached among the flowers and plucked out an ornament.

It was a little carved and painted pair of ice skates.

He let out a little chuckle, clutching the ornament. "Why, Silver Belle, you clever little thing..."

A little further exploring lead him to also find:

A little gingerbread man, commemorating the (failed) baking contest.

A nutcracker, in memory of the ballet.

A colourful Christmas bauble with the words _Now I have a machine gun – Ho Ho Ho_ painted on the outside, from _Die Hard_.

A little cross-stitch of the words _So It Goes_ , from their shared love of _Slaughterhouse Five_.

And a feather quill to mark the way they'd met.

It wasn't until he reached the exit, grinning like a fool, when he found the final ornament, like a signature, hanging on the doorknob: a pair of silver bells fastened together with a red ribbon emblazoned with the words _Dear Pilgrim_.

* * *

"You're so cute, you know..." Fran remarked, watching as Derek mulled over the perfect placement of his new ornaments. When she'd told him the story of what his pen pal had done, she'd just smiled softly, all the while knowing in her heart that there was more between the two than perhaps either of them wanted to let on...

"Hmm?" He glanced over his shoulder at her, still holding delicately to the pair of silver bells as if afraid he might shatter them were he not careful.

She shrugged as if she hadn't said anything. There was no hiding that smirk, though...

He turned to properly affix her with a raised brow a no-nonsense expression. "Now, Mama, I _know_ you've got something to say, so just spit it out already..."

She held up her hands in self-defence. "It's just that... Well, you never show this much interest in the other decorations."

"What are you implying?" It was clear that he already knew _exactly_ what it was she was deliberately not saying, but wanted to force her to say it aloud before he'd admit to anything.

"You're falling for this girl," she said matter-of-factly like she were simply stating a widely known truth.

He stammered for a moment. "I'm not _falling_ for anyone," he insisted.

She gave him a look that she'd perfected over the years – the one that said _'do I look like a fool?'_.

He huffed, throwing his hands up in surrender. "Frankly, Mama, I don't see how..."

She smirked in triumph. "I can see it in your eyes, you know? It's the same look your father used to get when he'd look at me..."

"Well, Mama, for your information, I'm pretty sure she just wants to be friends – she recently had her heart broken."

Fran shook her head knowingly. "Just because she has a few walls up, doesn't mean you can't break them down..." she said sagely. "And I know you, Derek, you're the kind of man who never backs down from something that's important to him."

"And what if she meets me and doesn't like me?" he challenged.

She just rolled her eyes. "Just be your normal charming self and she won't be able to resist you. I've always said you could charm the skin of a snake when you want to..."

He just chuckled. "I guess we'll just have to wait and see."

"Finish hanging your ornaments," she commanded gently. "While we're young, son."

"You could be less smug, Mama..."

"I think I'm allowed to be a little smug," she insisted. "I was right, afterall."

He raised a brow. "About what?"

"When I told you to sign up for this pen pal thing, I knew it would be good for you. You work too hard, you never have time to meet someone with your busy schedule. I think this time off may have been the best thing that ever happened to you."


	14. Chapter 14

**December 12th**

Emily wrapped her coat tighter around herself against the winter chill as a slight wind swept through the city square. Her coat didn't fit enough to button because she hadn't wanted to spent the money for a maternity coat, so it hung open and let in a chill. (She didn't mind too much, however, considering the fact that it seemed lately that she was always overheated.)

She wouldn't normally be out in the chilly weather – especially not with her sore feet – but it was a special occasion. Every year, the town's children's choir put on a Christmas concert to raise money for a charitable cause, lead by Fran Morgan who had started the tradition after the town had banded together to support her after her husband's death. Clyde had always loved the choir's performance, so she'd decided to attend, in spite of her sore feet, back, and...well, everything.

"Emily!" a voice greeted brightly. Turning to see who it was, she saw Matt and Kristy Simmons approaching, carrying a baby carrier.

Emily and Kristy had been pregnant together – attended prenatal yoga together, gone baby shopping together, even gone for coffee to commiserate about stretch marks and swollen feet together. She'd filled a void that JJ, no matter how hard she'd tried, couldn't quite fill, having never been pregnant herself.

"The little one finally decided to make her entrance to the world?" Emily asked. She embraced Kristy, then Matt, before bending down to get a good look at the newborn.

"Finally," Kristy agreed – she'd been almost a week overdue, afterall.

Peeking at the little girl's face, Emily hummed a little note of awe. "She's beautiful. What did you decide to name her?"

"Meet Rose Mary Simmons," Matt introduced with a fond smile at the baby. "Do you want to hold her?" Before she could answer, he'd already passed Emily the tiny baby.

Taking the little bundle and folding her into her chest, Emily's eyes lit up as she stared down at the baby, a tender smile on her face, realization dawning that it wouldn't be very long at all before she got to hold her own baby.

At that moment, the choir finished singing the final notes of Silent Night. And as they fell silent, Fran took the stage, smiling with pride for all the children she taught – including the other four Simmons children.

Clearing her throat, she began speaking, "This year, I'm honoured and humbled by this town's generosity. I know this year's cause is near and dear to a lot of us and I know our recipient is going to feel overwhelmed by everyone's support... As I'm sure most of you know, earlier this year, we lost one of this town's friendliest faces, tragically leaving behind a widow with a baby on the way."

_That_ was the moment realization dawned on Emily...

"Emily Prentiss has been so incredibly strong through one of life's most difficult tragedies and I think we've all been in awe of how she's carried on. I've known her since she was very young and she's always had a strong will and a fiery spirit and she still amazes me with her ability to overcome.

"Emily, please join me on stage..."

Though she looked incredibly awkward and reluctant to do so, Emily crossed the square – still holding Rose Mary – to join Fran.

"I, umm... Wow..." Emily stammered, staring out at the amassed crowd and trying not to burst into tears in front of the entire town. "I'm really... I'm overwhelmed! I wasn't expecting this – honestly, I'm sure there are other much more worthy causes..."

"Emily, we all want to support you and your baby. We all loved Clyde and we know he'd want us to stand behind you if he couldn't."

She nodded, sniffled softly. "Clyde loved this town and I know he would be so incredibly proud to call this place home after seeing how much you've all done for me and our child." Tongue flicking out over her lip, she let out a shaky breath. "Thank you to all of you. Really. I'm honoured." She embraced Fran tightly then, as best she could with the baby in her arms.

From across the square, Garcia sidled up to Derek's side with a smirk on her face. She tapped him on the shoulder, startling him. "Could you be anymore in love with her?" she teased.

"What?" he sputtered. "No! Why does everyone keep saying things like that to me?"

She gave him a pointed look.

"Look, I used to have a crush on her when I was a kid," he said, "But I could never go after a pregnant widow. Besides, everyone knows I'm not ready to settle down."

She rolled her eyes. "Not ready? She's holding the cutest little baby and you're smitten with the idea of having a family together."

He sighed. "Pen..."

"No, you listen, Derek – Emily Prentiss is a catch and you may never have another chance with her."

* * *

_Dear Silver Belle;_

_I have no idea how you managed to pull off that little surprise. Finding those ornaments on such short notice... Wow. You say you're not good at pulling off thoughtful and elaborate surprises, but I think you're wrong._

_I'm going to let you in on a little secret – at home, where I'm living currently, I never put up a tree. I don't even own any ornaments. I've always just been too busy to bother...it's not like I'm ever at home to enjoy them anyway._

_But yesterday, at my mother's place, I hung all the ornaments on the tree. My mom was teasing me as I did so, saying that I'm starting to fall for you. And much as I don't want to admit it, maybe she's right... I don't want to scare you off because you've made it clear that your heart still belongs to another._

_I just want you to know that you're quickly taking up space in my heart in a way that no one else ever has... What you do with that information, well...that's up to you._

_\- Pilgrim_


	15. Chapter 15

**December 13th**

_Dear Pilgrim;_

_There's a very real part of me that went into this feeling like my heart was too shattered to hold any love in it, like water leaking out a sieve. And I was okay with that because so long as no one else could worm their way into my heart, I wasn't disrespecting what I had with the person who came before._

_But there's just something about you that's so_ familiar _– things just feel so easy with you, like I don't have to try to hold up my walls because you see right through them anyway. And I want to hate that you see me – the real me – through words alone...but it's so hard to hate someone who just feels like_ home _._

_I don't know what's going to happen on December 25th – whether we'll see each other for the first time and there will be a spark or whether what we have is destined to stay in words and words alone. But I think I'm ready to find out..._

_~ Silver Belle_

* * *

Fran shuffled into the living room to find Derek sitting in her armchair, holding her knitting needles, and apparently trying very hard to tangle a ball of yarn into knots. "What are you doing?" she asked hesitantly, almost as if afraid of the answer.

He looked up sharply like he'd been caught with his hand in the cookie jar. "Oh, umm...nothing!" He attempted to hide his project.

"Really? Because it looks like you're knitting. I think..."

He sighed in defeat. "I need your help, Mama," he admitted, embarrassed.

"With?" she prompted, wanting to hear him say it.

He held up the tangle of yarn. "I'm making a hat. For Emily's baby," he explained. "And you're such a talented knitter. Please help me..."

Fran laughed. "I've never seen you so domestic," she teased. "Is my baby boy starting to think about settling down?"

He shrugged. "I'm just making a gift, Mama, from one friend to another – no need to read into it."

"Derek, sooner or later, you're going to have to face your feelings for Emily," she said gently, but serious enough that he wouldn't dare make a joke. "I know you're a little intimidated by all the trauma she went through with Clyde's death – and that's fair, you saw what I went through when I lost your father – but I think you need to at least admit to yourself how you feel."

"Mama..." he whispered, sighed, shook his head. There was nothing he could say.

She just patted his shoulder, gentle and understanding in a way only a mother could be.

* * *

Derek sat in the cafe, knitting. He hadn't _planned_ on knitting publicly, but Fran had had her book club over, so he'd need to find somewhere else to go. He was getting a few odd stares, but Derek Morgan didn't care what other people thought.

At least, not until JJ joined him, grinning with mischief. "What are you up to?" she asked.

"I'm making a tuque for Emily's baby," he admitted.

Her brows leapt up her forehead.

"Don't look at me like that," he muttered. "It's a gift."

She rolled her eyes. "Just ask her out already."

His eyes went wide. "Jayje..."" he groaned.

She refused to listen to his protests. "She's more ready than you might think," she insisted. "And you and her have a history."

He gave her a pointed look. "A history of being enemies..."

"She never hated you," JJ maintained. "And she certainly doesn't hate you now."

"That doesn't mean she wants me to date her," he argued.

She shook her head. "You're making excuses."

At that moment, the bell above the door chimed as it opened to admit Emily...and Andrew Mendoza.

Derek's jaw hung open slightly. "What... What are _they_ doing here?"

JJ shrugged. "No idea."

"Is it a date?" her persisted.

"I don't know," she said again.

* * *

" _Hey, umm... Hi, Emily. It's Andrew. Andrew Mendoza. I was just calling because, well, I saw you at the choir's concert. And Keely – and I guess me too – wanted to see if you wanted to get a coffee or something?"_

Emily wasn't entirely sure why she'd decided to respond to the voicemail, why she'd agreed to meet for coffee when – to be entirely honest – she'd wanted nothing more than to stay home and sleep.

But she'd said yes all the same. Mostly because she was sick of being cooped up at home, waiting for labour to start. And Andrew was nice, his daughter was cute...they were harmless.

That didn't mean she didn't feel a little weird about it, though. Especially when he showed up alone...

"Where's Keely?" she asked when they met up outside the cafe.

"Grounded," he said with a dismissive wave. "Guess it's just you and me."

* * *

Emily chewed her lip. She was looking for a way to politely end the conversation, but not quite able to find one. "Listen, Andrew," she started.

He didn't let her finish. "I know you're probably not ready to start anything right now – at least, not before the baby is born, but..."

She grimaced. "Listen, Andrew," she tried again.

Derek approached at that moment, leaning down to kiss the top of her head. "Hey, Princess," he greeted. "Sorry I'm late." He settled in the chair next to her. "Who's your friend?"

Brow raised in confusion, she glanced from Derek to Andrew and back. "What are you doing?" she mouthed to him.

He winked. "Do you want to go pick out nursery paint, babe?"

Looking just as confused as Emily, if not more, Andrew stammered, "Oh... I didn't realize you two were..."

Realization dawning on her, Emily plastered on a smile, leaned against Derek and glanced up at him with adoration in her eyes. "Oh, sure, _honey_. I just have to say goodbye to my friend – you remember Andrew Mendoza, from the cookie contest?"

"Right." He reached over to shake his hand. "Andy. How's it going?"

"It's _Andrew_ ," he corrected. "I guess I'll just..." He gestured over his shoulder. "...go."


	16. Chapter 16

**December 14th**

"You didn't have to do that," Emily insisted as they departed the cafe together. "I'm a big girl, I can save myself from one awkward advance..."

"I know," he agreed, "But I thought this would be faster."

She rolled her eyes as they walked arm in arm down the block, just in case Andrew was watching. "I was trying to be nice."

He shrugged away her concerns. "And I put him out of his misery."

She raised a brow. "Being interested in me is miserable?" she asked, tone dangerous.

"Only if there's no hope of having you," he replied smoothly.

"Smooth talker," she muttered. Then, "I think we're far enough away that you can let go now."

He obeyed, albeit reluctantly. Not wanting to let the moment end, he suggested, "The little Christmas market is on today – want to accompany me?"

She considered for a moment, eventually deciding she had no reason not to.

* * *

Derek was trying not to think about how intimate it felt to wander the little booths with Emily, watching her eyes light up when she spotted a glittering ornament or a cute baby outfit. _Trying_ , but not necessarily succeeding...

There was just something so breathtaking about the glitter of snowflakes on her dark hair, the pink of her cheeks from the cold, the ghost of a smile on her lips and it made him want to blurt out something part of her had been keeping secret since he was eight.

Instead, he said the first thing he could find to distract her and, more importantly, himself... "Hey, check it out, is that a tarot reader?"

She arched a brow. "I didn't know you believed in tarot..."

He shrugged. "I'm full of surprises, Princess. You should get a reading."

"I don't think so," she scoffed.

"Why not? You scared?" he mocked.

She rolled her eyes. "No."

He smirked. "I think you are... Come on, chicken. I'm buying."

Huffing, she grumbled, "Fine. But just so you stop bugging me."

* * *

It was well past midnight, but Emily couldn't fall asleep. Her mind kept replaying the words of the so-called psychic...

She'd sad that Emily didn't need to worry about her child. That they were going to grow up knowing how much they were loved – not just by her, but by their father as well. That they would be happy and healthy and never want affection.

But that wasn't the part that echoed through her mind on endless repeat.

The psychic had insisted that love was in the very near future. No matter how many times Emily had argued that there was no way that was true, that it couldn't be. According to the cards, there was an old flame that was still smouldering and would be relit any time now. In her exact words, _it had already been written_...

At the time, she'd thought it complete and utter nonsense. But, as she lay awake hour after hour, something started to percolate in her mind...namely, the letters. The letters in which her pen pal had claimed to be falling in love with her.

Was it possible that she not only already knew her pen pal, but was destined to fall for him too?

* * *

_Dear_ _Silver Belle;_

_It's over halfway to the big reveal and I'm starting to get a little nervous. What if I'm not what you're picturing? What if you've built me up in your mind and I fall short? I don't usually get nervous around women, but you've got me all twisted up in knots._

_Humour me a little... If this all works out and one day we get married, what does Christmas look like for us, ten years down the road? Are we vacationing in some tropical island to get away from the snow and crazy relatives? Do we have a bunch of rugrats opening presents in front of the fire? Is there a ring on your finger? Is there a matching one on mine? Are we happy?_

_I know you're afraid, that you're still healing...but I think there's a magic in dreaming about the future, in having faith that everything is going to work out for the best._

_\- Pilgrim_

* * *

Before Emily had met Clyde, she'd been dating Mark.

Mark had been a nice guy and she'd liked him well enough. He just didn't light that fire inside her that told her what she felt was _love_. She didn't tell him that, of course. She had a feeling that maybe, on some level, he knew though.

Mark had been the one who introduced Emily to Clyde...

The two men had played pre-professional soccer together in the UK and had been good friends. They'd both been drafted by American professional teams and made the journey across the Atlantic together. During practice one day, though, Mark had injured his knee, forcing him to retire from the sport. After that, he and Clyde had drifted apart.

It would be several years later before the two reconnected when Clyde moved to their small town to coach the local youth soccer league. It was at that point that Mark introduced Emily to Clyde.

Emily had instantly felt the spark, almost from the moment she laid eyes on Clyde. The two had shared a little smile and almost immediately, Emily had known she'd just met her future husband.

Truthfully, she hadn't thought about Mark in years. But the psychic's words had reminded her of what they'd had and started her wondering if perhaps Mark was her pen pal. Which is why that morning she'd headed down to the newspaper office where he worked as a sports writer with a coffee and a fresh blueberry muffin from the bakery.

If he'd been surprised to see her after so long, he hid his surprise well. "Emily!" he exclaimed. "What are you doing here?" He stood from his desk, embraced her as best he could around her belly. "Long time no see..."

"I know," she agreed. "I've just been thinking lately that I never really gave you my condolences for Clyde's death. I know you two were good friends and it must've been difficult for you to lose him."

He nodded sadly, but offered her a smile of thanks.

"This might be a little out of the blue, but would you like to get coffee and catch up sometime?" she suggested.


	17. Chapter 17

**December 15th**

Emily emerged from her bedroom, putting in her earrings in preparation for meeting with Mark. She hadn't gone to overly extreme lengths, appearance-wise, but perhaps further than was altogether innocent for such an occasion. She told herself it was because she didn't exactly have all that many excuses to dress up these days, so she was taking any one she could get. (Even she wasn't entirely certain she believed that...)

She wasn't expecting JJ to be home, as she moved through the little house in search of her coat... Not that she was doing anything wrong, per se, she just wasn't exactly ready for JJ prying into things as she was so very often wont to do...

Of course, she wasn't that lucky...

She came to a sudden halt upon catching sight of her friend/roommate/nosy interloper.

"Don't you look nice," JJ drawled, smirking in a look that clearly suspected she was up to no good. "Where are we going today all dolled up?"

" _I_ am getting coffee with a friend," she answered, hoping she wouldn't have more questions, but doubting that would be the case.

JJ hummed a note of interest, coloured with more than a little suspicion. "A _friend_ , hmm?" she echoed. "Does this friend have a name?"

She huffed, crossing her arms over her chest. "If I say no, will the conversation be over?"

She just gave her a look that clearly said _no way in hell_. For a few moments, the two stared at each other in a silent battle of wills...a battle which Emily was always going to lose.

"Mark," she mumbled in answer, not quite loud enough to be heard.

JJ had bat-like hearing, though. "Mark!?" she repeated, shrill. "As in your ex-boyfriend Mark?"

She shrugged. "Maybe..." She turned on her heel, making a dramatic show of search for her shoes so she wouldn't have to face JJ and her incredulty.

"Em! What are you doing?" JJ asked, somewhere between thrilled and confused. "Are you...going on a date?"

"What? No!" she yelped. "Jayje!"

She held up her hands in self-defence. "Just checking," she said. "So, if it's not a date, what is it?"

Glaring, she insisted, "I'm just getting coffee to catch up with him."

"If you say so..."

* * *

"You look beautiful," Mark said by way of greeting. "Pregnancy really agrees with you."

She blushed slightly as she sat across from him.

"I'm glad you showed up at the newspaper office the other day," he murmured. "It's been a long time – I've missed you."

She nodded. "It's been busy," she said with a shrug. "You know, between the funeral and preparing for the baby..."

He reached across the table to squeeze her hand where it rested, giving her an apologetic smile. "I'm so sorry, you know," he murmured, "About Clyde. He was a good man – he didn't deserve to die so young."

"Thank you," she whispered, though, to be completely honest, she was getting rather tired of apologies and platitudes.

"He always made me laugh, you know?" Mark continued. "He was just...he was one of the best people I've ever known." He paused, laughed a little. "I don't need to sell you on the merits of Clyde Easter, though, do I? Considering you left me for him..."

Sadness washed across her face then. "Mark..."

Something like guilt must've surged inside him then because he immediately backtracked, "I'm sorry, I didn't mean it like that – like an accusation. I don't blame you for finding happiness with someone else."

She attempted a faint smile, though it didn't quite reach her eyes. Saying nothing, she withdrew her hand from beneath his.

He seemed unable to resist inquiring, though... "Out of curiosity...what was it you found so attractive about Clyde Easter that you didn't see in me?"

She apparently thought he was joking, judging by the way she barked out a laugh. "Good one," she said, "Ask the widow what she saw in her husband, the love of her life, the father of her baby, that made her leave you for him..."

A beat.

She caught the expression on his face then – one that seemed surprised she'd laughed... "Oh..." She paused, eyes wide in shock. "You're serious..."

He shrugged as if suddenly embarrassed by his question. "Well, kinda, yeah..."

Her expression lost all levity then. "You're serious?" she repeated, incredulous now. "You seriously want to know what I saw in Clyde and not you? Well, for one thing, he would _never_ have had the _gall_ to ask such an insensitive and thoughtless question!" She stood from the table with a screech of her chair against the floor. "You know, I wanted to believe that it wasn't a mistake to see you today, but obviously that as an error on my part. Don't bother calling me."

And, with that, she stomped off, slamming the door behind her.

* * *

_Dear Pilgrim;_

_I'm sincerely hoping right now that you're not who I think you are...because if you are, I hope you don't have the balls to hope anything between us could happen after today._

_And if you aren't...well, I'm sorry for just blowing up at you. As I'm sure you can tell, it hasn't been a banner day for me._

_I find it hard to believe that you could possibly be so sweet and thoughtful and kind on paper and then turn around and be such a complete and utter jackass in person. But, like you said, stranger things have happened._

_I'm hoping... Hoping that the universe isn't laughing at me for thinking there are still good people in the world. Hoping that people are better than I think they are. Hoping that life, while unfair, is at least worthwhile. I want to hope, but it's so hard sometimes._

_I want...you to tell me something good. Something that happened to you. Something that you did that makes everything not some big fucking cosmic joke. Something that I can believe in. I'm begging you: please, be a better person than I deserve._

_~ Silver Belle_


	18. Chapter 18

**December 16th**

_Dear Silver Belle;_

_Sounds like you've really been through it... I sincerely hope it wasn't anything I did, but if it was, I apologize from the bottom of my heart. I'd hate myself if I inadvertently ruined whatever's between us without even realizing it._

_I'd also hate it if you were to lose your faith in humanity because, I promise you, in spite of everything, there are good people in the world. I'd like to think I'm one of them, though I will admit that I'm certainly far from perfect._

_I'd like to tell you all the wonderful things I've done that might prove my point, but I fear that doing so would inadvertently give away my secret identity and ruin the surprise. Please, just trust me when I tell you that there is good in this world and you're proof of that._

_(Not to go all nerdy on you, but isn't there some big speech about this in the second Lord of the Rings movie?)_

_Just hold on for a little while longer and I promise to show you just how much good there is on the day we meet._

_\- Pilgrim_

* * *

By this point in her pregnancy, Emily really should've been used to getting ultrasounds, but she still found herself getting nervous each time. Especially when she found out that JJ wasn't going to be able to attend with her.

She wasn't entirely sure why she got so anxious... Maybe it was because she was afraid that she would lose the last thing she had of Clyde. Or maybe part of her thought she was cursed. All she knew was that she couldn't face the appointment alone.

She was pacing the hallway, picking at her nails when she heard a familiar voice booming, "Ho ho ho! Merry Christmas!"

Whipping around, she came face to face with Santa... "Derek?" she asked, confused, "What are you doing here?"

Glancing over his shoulder in search of innocent little ears, he whispered, "I'm Santa."

She rolled her eyes. "No, really?"

Smirking, he said, "The hospital called and said their Santa couldn't make it, so I filled in to read to the kids and hand out gifts."

"Wow... That's sweet of you," she said. "I didn't know you were so jolly..."

"I keep telling you, Princess, I'm full of surprises," he teased. "So, what are you doing here?"

She nodded over her shoulder. "Yet another ultrasound." She attempted a smile.

He raised a brow. "You don't seem happy..."

"Nervous," she admitted. "JJ's at work and I've never been to one of these appointments alone."

He nodded thoughtfully. "You know... I've never been to an ultrasound before – would you mind if I came with you? You know, so I could see what a growing baby looks like?"

"Oh, umm..." she stammered. "Sure. I guess. If you really want to."

* * *

"Can I give you a lift home?" Derek asked as they left the appointment. "It's the least I could do after you let me share that private moment with you."

She rolled her eyes. "You can stop pretending it was a favour to you – I know you were trying to make me feel better."

He shrugged, but admitted to nothing. "So, do you need a ride?"

She sighed, irritated. "Well, JJ and I were _supposed_ to go shopping for baby things after the appointment, but she's at work, so..."

"I'll take you," he offered immediately. She didn't seem to believe that, though. "Really," he insisted, "I've got no plans."

"But you're dressed as Santa..."

Apparently, he'd forgotten, judging by the way he glanced at his outfit. "I've got a change of clothes in the car."

She chewed her lip for a moment, then nodded. "Fine. I could use the help moving heavy furniture anyway."

He chuckled. "Your wish is my command."

* * *

"Why do they make these strollers so fucking complicated?" Emily griped. "You practically need an engineering degree to work them..."

"Maybe that's because you're trying to work it with one hand," he pointed out.

She gave him a pointed look. "Well, I'll have the baby in one hand, which only leaves me one free one," she said.

He indicated the next stroller. "Well, what about this one? It looks fancy..."

The store clerk approached them with a cheerful smile. "Shopping for your first stroller?" she asked. "It can be really overwhelming, huh? They have so many really cool models these days. Personally, I recommend a twin stroller – you may only have one now, but it will save your sanity when you have a second!"

Emily's eyes went wide and panic-stricken. "Oh, we're not..." She gestured between her and Derek. "We're not together."

"Oh, I'm sorry," the clerk squeaked. "I just assumed..."

"We're just old friends," Derek assured. "I'll be the one putting the crib together."

The clerk giggled. "You're the manual labour? Are you a handyman?"

He shrugged modestly. "Well, I'm a man and I _am_ handy... Why? Do you need some renos done?"

"Maybe," she said with a grin. "Do you have a business card or something?"

Emily cleared her throat. "Could I get some help with this stroller?"

As Derek drove Emily back to JJ's place, he said, "That was kinda funny..."

"What was?" she asked, brow raised.

"You getting jealous."

She glared at him. "Jealous?" she repeated dangerously.

"Of the store clerk hitting on me," he teased.

Her glare turned positively icy. "I wasn't jealous," she insisted, "I just thought it was rude – I was trying to prepare for my baby and she was all over you like I wasn't even there."

"I think it _was_ jealousy," he maintained. "But it's okay because you're cute when you're jealous."

"And you're annoying."

He just shook his head smiling because it was just like when they were kids for a moment. But only for a brief moment before she was suddenly tensing and wincing, letting a hissed breath out through her teeth.

"Em?" he asked, suddenly concerned. "Are you alright?"

She shook her head firmly once, twice. "No," she said slowly. "No, I'm in labour..."


	19. Chapter 19

**December 17th**

Derek pulled his truck to the side of the road with shaking hands. "You're... You're in labour..." he repeated, dumbstruck. "In _labour_..."

"You can keep saying it, but it won't stop being true," she deadpanned.

He nodded, cleared his throat. "Okay, I'll call JJ," he said, trying to remain calm. Unfortunately, though, JJ didn't pick up the phone. "Shit," he hissed, running a hand over his head. "Shit."

She huffed, breathing through her contraction. "It's fine," she insisted, "Just take me home."

He nodded shakily. "I don't want you to be alone right now..."

"I won't be," she said plainly. "You'll be staying with me."

"What? But..." he stammered, "I mean..."

She shot him a glare. "Like you said, I can't be alone right now."

* * *

"I still can't get ahold of JJ," Derek informed her, entering the room after hanging up the phone. "I've got no idea what she's doing or where she is, but she's ignoring my texts."

"Come here," Emily commanded.

"Why?"

She just gestured for him, ignoring the question. When he complied, she grabbed hold of his hands, using him as leverage to pull herself to her feet from the exercise ball she'd been sitting on.

"What are you doing?" he asked.

She wrapped her arms around his neck, putting her weight on his shoulders. "It's called the slow dance position," she explained, "It's good for labouring."

Looking awkward about it, he rested his hands on her hips and swayed in time with her movements. "Are you nervous?" he asked. "For, you know, what happens next?"

"You mean birth or being a mom?" she replied.

He shrugged. "Either. Both."

She mashed her lips together to stifle a pained moan, breathing through her nose for a few moments. Finally, she answered, "I'm really not thinking about that right now – I just want to get through the next contraction."

"What can I do?" he offered.

"Counterpressure," she answered immediately.

"Huh?"

Shaking her head, she lowered herself back onto the ball, moving her hips in a circle. "During a contraction, you have to press hard on my back."

Kneeling down before her, he asked, "Are you sure? I don't want to hurt you..."

She gave him a pointed look.

"Right," he said with a shrug. "Small potatoes compared to labour."

She smiled softly at him. "Thank you," she whispered.

"For what?" He reached for her hands, squeezed gently.

She returned the pressure. "For not making me do this alone."

* * *

"It's after midnight, Em," Derek said gently. "You should try to get some sleep." She gave him a skeptical look. "Just lay down," he coaxed.

He helped her to stand, gently guiding her to the bedroom and helping her climb into bed.

"Stay with me?" she begged.

"Are you sure?" he asked.

She nodded. "I really don't want to be alone right now," she whispered. She patted the bed next to her.

He couldn't stand to see the pleading look on her face, so he obliged, settling next to her. She immediately nuzzled into his side and he wrapped his arm around her.

"Would you talk to me?" she asked.

"About what?"

She shrugged. "Anything. Distract me."

He thought for a moment, then said, "I'll tell you a story...but you have to promise not to laugh at me."

"I promise _to_ laugh at you," she retorted, never one to miss an opportunity to make fun of him.

He huffed as if annoyed, but added a wink to show he was only messing with her.

"Okay, so back in Chicago, I used to go to this coffee shop every day before work. And one day, I'm about to leave with my coffee when I catch sight of this total smoke show. Only, I don't have an excuse to talk to her...so what do I do? I throw out the coffee I'd literally just bought and get back in line behind her so I can chat her up.

"Flawless plan, right? Except that she _saw_ me do it and totally called me out on it." He shook his head, wincing. "And not only that, but she _knew my name_...turns out she was replacing one of the paralegals who was going on maternity leave. When I saw her at the office later, I almost died of embarrassment."

Emily absolutely crowed with laughter. "Derek!" she gushed. "You really haven't changed a bit, have you? You're still the same kid offering to walk all the cute girls in his class home after school..."

"I'm a _gentleman_ ," he insisted.

She scoffed. "You're a manslut..." Anything further she might have said to tease him was cut off by her next contraction.

Derek immediately pressed his knuckles into her lower back to provide the counterpressure she needed.

She let out a watery little laugh between breaths. "Finally a good reason for all the time you spend at the gym..." she managed to tease, even while in the throes of labour pain.

"I do it all for you, Princess," he agreed.

As the contraction subsided, she let herself settle back against his chest, exhausted. If it felt a little too familiar for his liking, he certainly wasn't about to say so, understanding that she needed him in that moment, possibly more than she'd ever needed anyone. And if she felt safe enough to have him there during one of her most vulnerable moments, he wasn't about to take that away from her.

Several moments of silence passed, then Emily suddenly sat bolt upright, eyes going wide. "Shit!" she hissed, "I forgot to write to my pen pal..."

"I'm pretty sure that, given the circumstances, they'll forgive you," he assured her.

She nodded her agreement, but protested anyway, "I just don't want him to think I've forgotten about him or given up or something."

"I'm sure that if this mystery guy knows you at all, he'd know that you're too damn stubborn to give up on anything ever," he assured her.

She couldn't help the little laugh that bubbled up at that. "I thought you were trying to stay on my good side?" she said, brow raised.

"Oh, believe me, I am," he maintained. "I'm just giving the facts: you're the most stubborn woman I know and I love you for it."


	20. Chapter 20

**December 18th**

Sometime around five AM, Derek awoke to Emily cursing a blue streak. Sleepily, he mumbled an incoherent question in response to the rude awakening, but didn't bother to open his eyes. Afterall, it was _five AM_ and they hadn't even gone to bed until after midnight...

"My water broke," she informed him without bothering to ask for clarification as to what his sleepy mumbling meant.

He sat bolt upright in bed, blinking sleep from his eyes. "Okay," he said, more to himself than to her, "Okay... So...what now?"

She gave him a scathing look at the admittedly stupid question. "We go to the hospital," she said, the _duh_ implied in her tone.

He certainly wasn't going to comment on her attitude just then, even if it felt unreasonably unkind, considering all that he'd done for her so far, even though he had no obligations to do so. "Do you have a hospital bag?" he asked, climbing out of bed and hurrying to help her stand.

"By the door," she informed him as she dug in her dresser in search of dry clothes. She didn't even bother asking him for privacy before shucking off her damp pants and underwear.

He instantly diverted his eyes, clearing his throat awkwardly. "Should I text JJ to let her know?" he asked, looking anywhere but at her.

She huffed in annoyance at the mention of her friend. "If she's not already dead, she will be when she shows up," she growled.

Derek took that as a no (and he didn't doubt that she truly meant the threat). "Isn't there anyone else I can call?" he practically begged. "Another friend? Your mother?"

"Nope. You're it," she declared firmly. "You're going to finish what you started."

And, though he obviously wanted to protest further, he said nothing.

* * *

Together, Emily and Derek wandered through the halls of the hospital, making slow circles around the nurses' desk of the labour and delivery ward. Their progress was halted every so often by her contractions, during which Derek would dutifully support her weight in an awkward little slow dance while she breathed through the pain. (He was pretty sure the nurses thought they were a couple, judging by the way they watched and whispered.)

"Who is she?" Emily spoke, startling him as he stared down at his phone screen as they walked. When he blinked a few times, stunned, she elaborated, "You keep checking your phone – only one thing would be this distracting to Derek Morgan... Don't tell me...it's the girl you tried to pick up at the coffee shop?"

"It's nothing," he insisted, shooting her a roll of his eyes over the teasing. At her continued skeptical look, he sighed, relented, "I haven't heard from my pen pal yet... I'm worried."

She gave a little laugh. "That reminds me: I never wrote my last letter."

A beat, during which the two of them slowly came to realize what exactly the unlikely coincidence meant.

"No!" Emily's eyes went wide in disbelief. "It couldn't be!"

Derek started laughing – not because the situation was funny but because there was nothing else to do. "I think we have to face the facts, Princess...they tricked us to making friends with each other."

"Friends?" she repeated, incredulous, "You said you were falling in love with me!"

He winced. "I was kind of hoping you wouldn't remember that..."

She laughed, a little hysterically. "How could I forget?"

Before they could explore the issue any further, though, JJ finally arrived. "Hey guys – I'm so sorry, I..."

" _You_!" Emily hissed, pointing at JJ accusatorily. "You did this!"

She blinked a few times in surprise and confusion. "Did what?"

But Emily was already on her way back to her room without them, a slow journey, hampered as it was by her IV tower and her waddling gait.

JJ turned to Derek, brow raised in confusion. "What was that about?" she asked him.

"Did you, umm..." He paused, cleared his throat. "Did you know that Emily and I are pen pals?"

"How did you figure it out?" she whispered.

His jaw hung open slightly. "So, it's true?"

JJ at least managed to look chagrined. "Pen and I knew that you two would fall for each other if you could just get past the childhood petty rivalry, so we paired you up and convinced you to join." She paused, frowned. "Is she really upset about it?"

"I think she's just overwhelmed and in pain," he said, though he wasn't entirely certain that was the case.

"Have you been with her the whole time?" she asked, changing the subject.

He nodded. "And I'd like to know where _you_ were...and why you ignored my messages."

She winced. "I'm so sorry – I got called to work, but it was my boyfriend trying to surprise me. He took me to a B&B for the night and I didn't have my phone charger. I didn't think she'd go into labour so early, so I wasn't concerned when my phone died." She paused, offered an apologetic smile. "I'm just surprised she wanted you here," she added. "You two aren't on the best of terms when she isn't in pain..."

He shrugged. "I guess I'm better than no one at all."

From down the hall, Emily hollered, "Derek, get in here!"

"Guess you're not relieved of duty just yet," JJ said with a laugh. She followed him into the room to find Emily kneeling on the floor, elbows on the bed. "What are you doing?" she asked.

Emily ignored her. "Counterpressure," she yelled at Derek.

He obediently obliged, pressing firmly on her back.

"Wow..." JJ murmured, apparently finding the scene before her hard to believe for a variety of reasons, "You two are a well-oiled machine."

"I just do what I'm told," he said with a shrug. "That generally avoids the yelling and cursing..."

Emily turned to glower at him over her shoulder. "Be careful or you might find yourself in trouble," she warned. "I was just starting to like you..."


	21. Chapter 21

**December 19th**

Nearing two full days of labour with nothing to show for her efforts, Emily was starting to get disheartened. "I can't do this anymore..." she sobbed. "I can't... It's too hard!"

She was laying back in the hospital bed, covering her face with her hands as she let frustrated tears escape. Her normally pristine appearance was decidedly dishevelled (not that that stopped Derek from thinking she was beautiful) - sweat glistened on her brow from her efforts, making her hair stick to her face, no matter how frequently Derek mopped her face with a wet cloth.

"That's not true, Em," Derek assured her from his spot at the end of the bed where he was rubbing her feet. "You're doing so good and you just have to hang on a little longer, okay?"

"You don't understand!" she insisted, anger flaring, "It's _too hard_!"

He moved to sit next to her on the bed, gently cupping her cheeks to make her meet his gaze. "Listen to me, Princess, you are too damn stubborn and too damn strong to give up. You are going to see this through and meet your beautiful little baby, okay?"

She stared into his eyes, her own filling with tears that spilled freely down her cheeks until he smudged them away with his thumbs.

"Don't you give up, Em," he whispered. "'Cause I'm not giving up on you."

She nodded, sniffled. "You're going to stay the whole time?"

"Wouldn't miss it for the world," he vowed.

She attempted a smile, but it didn't last long because her next contraction slammed into her, making her cry out. She grabbed his hands, squeezing them as hard as she could, doing her best to breathe through the pain.

"You're doing so good, Em," he coached, "Just breathe. Keep breathing."

She exhaled shakily as the contraction ended. "Where's JJ?" she asked, apparently only just realizing she was missing.

"Getting a quick bite to eat," he said, "She'll be right back. Do you want her to bring you something?"

She thought for a moment. "Do you think she could find me a grilled cheese?" she asked, batting her eyes in a silent plea. She'd fought with her doctor over whether or not she could eat during labour and eventually won after citing every study she could find proving that it was actually beneficial.

He laughed. "I'll move Heaven and Earth to get you one," he vowed. "Even if I have to break into the kitchen and make it myself."

"Don't leave..." she started to protest.

"Never."

She offered him a sad little look then as she seemed to realize that he hadn't left her side except to use the bathroom in the entire time she'd been labouring. "Aren't you starving?"

He shrugged. "You need me here," he said. "I can miss a meal or two to make that happen."

Her bottom lip wobbled. "Derek..." she whispered, obviously close to tears.

"I'm here for the whole thing, Em," he murmured. "No matter what."

* * *

Derek was getting a few minutes of sleep in one of the uncomfortable armchairs, letting JJ take care of Emily for awhile. It had taken quite a bit of convincing from both JJ and Emily that they would be fine while he got some much needed rest and they'd promised to wake him if Emily needed _anything_.

"I can't believe you're letting Derek Morgan help you..." JJ whispered as she kneaded Emily's back. (Emily had been quick to point out that JJ was not nearly as good at the counterpressure...) "I never thought I'd see the day."

Emily gave her a little glare, even though she was on her hands and knees and JJ couldn't see the expression. "Derek has been saving my sanity, Jayje, especially when you were MIA."

"I'm sorry!" she apologized yet again. "I didn't exactly _plan_ on not being there, okay?"

Emily rolled her eyes, but let the matter drop...partly because the next contraction knocked the air from her lungs. "Wake him up!" she demanded.

JJ didn't bother to protest, jostling Derek out of his slumber. "She needs you," she said and he was instantly at Emily's side.

"You're almost there, Princess," he immediately encouraged.

She nodded. "I think it's time..." she said on a shaky breath.

"Maybe I should wait in the hall?" he offered, averting his eyes as the doctor entered the room and began preparing for the delivery.

She shook her head frantically. "Just...stay by my head," she said. "Please?" They both knew he wasn't about to deny her anything when she used that pleading smile.

* * *

In spite of labouring for two entire days, Emily only had to push for ten minutes before her baby entered the world.

"Why isn't there any crying?" Emily choked out when no wailing cry followed the baby slipping from her body. She looked from JJ to Derek and back to the doctor, fear glinting obvious in her gaze.

The nurse explained, "Your baby is just fine – the doctor just needs to clear the mouth and nose." And, as if to prove her point, there followed a healthy sounding wail.

Emily clapped a hand over her mouth to stifle her sob, even though tears were streaming down her face as she heard her child take their first breath.

"Does Daddy want to cut the cord?" the nurse asked, looking from Emily to Derek.

"Oh, I'm not the father..." Derek started to protest, suddenly feeling guilty for being there at all.

"You should do it," Emily assured him with a little smile. He still seemed hesitant, so she nodded once in assurance.

With shaking hands, Derek took the scissors the nurse offered him and snipped the cord connecting Emily to her baby.

"Congratulations, Emily," the doctor said as he set the baby on Emily's bare chest, "You have a son."

She rested a trembling hand on the baby's back, hardly daring even to breathe as she met her son for the first time. "Hi, baby," she whispered. "You're so beautiful."

"He's gorgeous, Em," Derek said, smiling tenderly at the image of her holding the newborn.

JJ nodded her agreement. "He looks just like his dad."

That statement seemed to shake Derek back to reality. "I'm going to give you two some time to bond," he whispered. Before he could step away, Emily reached out a hand to stop him. He halted, turned, gave her a smile. "Congrats, Princess. You're going to be an amazing mom."

"Thank you," she whispered, smiling right back. It was clear that she wasn't thanking him for the compliment, but for all that he had done for her.

"Always."


	22. Chapter 22

**December 20th**

"Where have you been for two days?" Fran asked as Derek came in the door, shuffled to the living room, and flopped face down on the couch. "I've been worried sick about you, you know?" (Once a mother, always a mother, apparently...)

"At the hospital," he replied, voice muffled by couch cushions. He was exhausted down to his very bones and all he wanted to do was fall into a deep sleep for the next two days, but he had a feeling his mother wasn't about to let that happen...

Her eyebrows leapt up her forehead at his announcement, panic obviously coursing through her. "The hospital?" she repeated incredulously. "Whatever for? And why didn't you call me?"

He rolled over so he voice wouldn't be muffled, stifling a yawn as he did so. "Emily had her baby."

"Really? Isn't she almost three weeks early?" Fran asked, surprised and perhaps a little dubious as if she suspected he were hiding something.

He shrugged. "You know what you always say: babies have their own schedule."

"So, you _aren't_ kidding?"

"Not even a little bit. I did the whole labour thing with her – holding her hands and giving counterpressure and everything," he explained, still seeming in awe himself over the fact that he'd actually done it. "She even wanted me to cut the umbilical cord..."

Fran nodded slowly, apparently digesting that bit of information. "Wow..." she said in a whoosh of air.

He raised a brow at her tone. "What, Mama? I know you've got something to say on the matter, so out with it..."

"I'm just...surprised," she admitted, "I mean, you're... Well, you're a good man, but from what you've told me, you tend to run when things get serious. And there's nothing quite so serious as helping someone give birth."

He rolled his eyes. "Maybe. But this is different. Yes, suck at commitment, but that's just because I've never felt _it_ , you know? That thing that tells you something is real. It's differentwhen it's someone you l-"

"What was that?" Fran asked when he trailed off suddenly, looking stricken by his own honesty.

"Nothing," he lied. "Nothing at all."

A smug smirk was working its way across Fran's lips. "You were going to say _love_..." she accused. It wasn't a question.

He heaved a sigh, sounding exhausted, though it was unclear if that was because of the conversation or the last forty-eight hours. " _Fine_. Maybe I have _some_ feelings for Emily, but it really doesn't matter. Because I'm not her husband. She's not ready to move on."

"Derek, you just shared the most intimate moment of Emily's life with her. That's not something you share with just anyone..."

"So, what, Mama?" Derek asked. "You think Emily's secretly in love with me?" He shook his head. "Because I really don't think..."

She interrupted, "That's right – you _don't_ think. Otherwise you wouldn't be here right now."

That seemed to surprise – and confuse – him. "Well, where _would_ I be, oh all-knowing Mama?"

Shaking her head and smiling, Fran patted his cheek. "You'd be at the hospital. With Emily."

"But..." She just gave him a pointed look. "For one thing, I'm exhausted. And for another..." he listed.

"Just go, Derek. You know it's where you want to be."

* * *

"How do you feel?" JJ asked quietly, glancing at Emily from the corner of her eye as if trying to get a read on her without openly letting Emily know she was doing so.

The two of them had made the slow journey from Emily's recovery room to the nursery so that Emily could watch him through the pane glass window. She'd surprised JJ by letting the nurses take him...not that she could really blame her, considering she'd been awake for nearly three days at that point.

Emily shrugged, staring at her son like she couldn't look away, a tiny smile playing about her lips, albeit a sad one. "I don't know – I don't think it's really sunk in yet," she confessed, sounding almost embarrassed to be admitting it aloud.

JJ rubbed her back gently. "I'm sure it takes time. It's a huge transition to go from having him inside you and having him be this real person separate from you."

She nodded. "I already love him so much. I just... I don't feel like a mom yet."

"Is that why you let him go to the nursery?" she asked. "Because I half expected you to cling to him so hard they'd need the jaws of life to tear you apart."

Emily said nothing.

And, apparently sensing that she needed some space from the matter, JJ changed the subject. "I've gotta say, I'm impressed with Derek – he didn't throw up or faint or anything. I was half expecting him to swear off sex for life after the way you swore during transition..."

She gave a little laugh. "He's my hero," she whispered, voice so soft JJ wasn't sure she was meant to hear it.

"You must really be important to him," JJ replied.

"What makes you say that?"

JJ bumped her shoulder against Emily's. "Because Derek Morgan, infamous player, infamous commitment-phobe, spent two days helping you bring your baby into the world. A baby that isn't his."

"Meaning what?" she prompted.

"Meaning he obviously has feelings for you," JJ whispered.

Emily shook her head. "I don't think..."

"And you have feelings for him," she continued.

For a few moments, her mouth hung open slightly. "Jayje..."

"If you can't admit it to me, admit it yourself," she urged.

A beat.

"Is this why you paired us up in the stupid pen pal thing?" she asked. "Because, Jay... I just..." She sighed, shook her head, trailing off.

"I know," JJ said in a gentle whisper. "But for what it's worth, I think you two could really make it work."

Emily just nodded slowly, almost vacantly. "I think I should try to get some sleep," she said, "You know, while I still can..."

JJ squeezed her hand, but said nothing. She knew Emily didn't need to be pushed right now. She just needed a friend.


	23. Chapter 23

**December 21st**

There was a knock on the door, interrupting Emily's attempts to rest...not that she was feeling all that tired to begin with, still running on adrenaline from the birth. "Derek?" she said, surprised, when he peered through the slight opening in the doorway. "What are you doing back here? I thought you went home to rest..."

"I did," he said with an awkward little shrug. "But then, I, umm... I realized I hadn't had the chance to hold your little peanut."

"Oh..." If she thought his excuse specious, well...she didn't call him out on it. At least, not in that moment.

He smiled his thanks as he stepped fully into the room. "Where is he, by the way?" he asked upon realizing the baby was nowhere to be seen.

It seemed to take her a moment to realize he meant the baby. "They took him to the nursery," she said. "I couldn't rest with him in the room – every little sound he made had me panicking that he was suffocating or something..."

"Did you want me to leave so you can rest?" he asked, gesturing over his shoulder, suddenly feeling guilty for just showing up without at least calling first to see if she was up for visitors.

"Stay," she almost begged. She wasn't looking at him, staring instead at the blanket covering her lap as if it were the most interesting thing in the world. "JJ went home and I'm feeling a little lonely," she admitted quietly, "And vulnerable..."

He opened his mouth to reassure her, but before he could, the nurse wheeled the little plastic bassinet into the room then with a bright smile. "This cutie is getting hungry," she informed Emily, "How do you feel about trying to breastfeed again?"

Emily seemed almost reluctant, but took the baby in her arms anyway, pulling open her hospital gown to expose her breast.

"Should I leave?" Derek asked again.

Emily laughed a little. "Derek, you were here when he came out of me, I think you can watch him eat..."

Conceding that she was, in fact, right, he settled in the chair next to her bed, still deliberately not looking at her as she attempted to get the baby to latch. "So, does the little guy have a name?" he asked.

"His name is Clyde," she whispered. "Clyde II. No middle name yet." A few moments of silence passed, then Emily started to sniffle.

Derek's brows leapt up his forehead as he whipped around to see what was wrong, finding her eyes filling with tears. "What's wrong, Em?"

She shook her head, drying her tears with the heel of her hand. "I'm a bad mother!" she sobbed.

"Oh, Em, no!" he insisted. "You're just new at this."

"I can't even feed him right!" she wailed. "He's refusing my breast..."

He quietly shushed her, feeling completely inadequate. "Do you want me to call the nurse?"

She shook her head. "I just need a little break. Can... Can you hold him?" She was already trying to pass off the baby to him.

He accepted the squirming bundle that was her son, holding him to his chest. "Hey there, C2," he cooed to the baby. "How's life?" Baby Clyde gurgled, squirmed in his arms, but didn't immediately start crying, which Derek took to be a good sign.

"Did you mean it?" Emily asked suddenly, watching him with intensity.

Derek turned to fix her with a curious expression. "Mean what?" He held out one finger for the baby to grab hold of.

"When you said you have feelings for me – did you mean it?" she asked again.

"Of course!" he said, almost urgently. "Em, everything I said in those letters was the truth. Every word."

She chewed her lip for a moment. "I like you, Derek, but I can't just think about myself anymore..."

He furrowed his brow. "So, what, Em? What are you trying to say?"

"I can't just let someone into my life – my heart – anymore. I need someone who is going to be here for the long run, not for me, for my son."

Derek looked down to the baby who was laying contentedly in his arms. "You mean, this guy? He clearly loves me."

She laughed, a little wetly. "Derek, I'm not joking around here..."

"Neither am I," he insisted. "Em, I've been in love with you since we were eight years old – you really think I'm just going to let all that go?"

She blinked a few times, surprised. "You have?"

"Yeah! Em, you'd have to be blind not to see it!" he said with a laugh. "I spent that past month writing letters to some girl thinking _'hey, I finally found someone who could get my mind off Emily...'_ Except, turns out it _was_ you all along."

Her tongue flicked out over her bottom lip. "So, you're saying...?"

"If you'll have me, Em, I'm yours. For the long haul," he murmured. "I'll do it all – change diapers and do midnight feedings and..."

She held out a hand to stop the flow of words. "Derek, I'm not looking to jump into anything. I don't need someone to replace Clyde. I don't need a father for my son." She paused, offered an apologetic smile. "Not right away anyway – I need to take some time to figure out motherhood on my own first."

He nodded slowly, swallowed thickly. "That's... That's fair."

She attempted a smile. "I _do_ need you, though. I need a friend. And when the time is right, then, maybe...we could try something?" she said, a little awkwardly.

"Em, all you have to do is ask. For anything," he said firmly. "Even if you only ever need a friend, okay?"

She nodded, sniffling softly.

"So," he said, glancing once again at the baby, "Do you want this little guy back or can I keep him?"

She smiled faintly, extended her hands to take the baby. "Thanks," she murmured,

"For what?"

"For giving me a moment to breathe, to calm down. I've been really overwhelmed and I really just needed to see that he'll be okay with me. Like he is right now. I know it doesn't make any sense, but..." She shrugged. "Thanks."

"Always."


	24. Chapter 24

**December 22nd**

To say that Derek had mixed feelings about how his conversation with Emily had gone would be an understatement. But he respected Emily far too much to press her for something she wasn't able to give him.

But he was going to stand by his promise to be there as her friend, even if it killed him. (And, if the feeling in his chest when he looked at her was any indication, it just might...) But that was a matter for another time because he wasn't sure he could face too much introspection right now without wanting to rip his heart from his chest...

The next day, after _actually_ going home and sleeping, he'd come up with an idea. Perhaps it was above and beyond the call of duty for friendship, but that had never stopped him before when it came to Emily...

* * *

"What are we doing here?" JJ asked, coming through the door of the house he'd given Emily, finding Derek attired in paint-splattered pants and a t-shirt that was, perhaps, a little too tight (since it was from the law school he'd attended years ago).

"You're going to help me surprise Emily," he informed her.

She gave him a look that clearly questioned his motives.

He didn't give her a chance to voice those questions, though. "Before you say anything, Emily and I are not dating. She made it clear she's not ready, so I'm not going to push her. This is just one friend helping another."

She seemed dubious about that, but knew better than to challenge him and his stubbornness. "Okay, so what exactly _are_ we doing?"

"Decorating the nursery," he said merrily, handing her a paintbrush.

Her expression turned even more unimpressed. "You waited until _after_ the baby was born to do this?"

He shrugged. "Are you going to help me or not?"

* * *

"Can I ask you something?"

Derek looked up from his task of piecing together the crib. "I have a feeling I'll regret this, but...yes. Ask away."

"Do you really think you can just be friends with Emily?" she asked. "Even knowing she doesn't return your feelings?" She'd known him long enough to know that Derek Morgan wasn't a man who opened up easily, tending to keep his feelings close to the chest, so seeing him wearing his heart on his sleeve with Emily wasn't something to take lightly. She couldn't imagine that he'd ever quite recover from Emily turning him down, whether he'd ever allow himself to fall for someone a second time.

He was silent for a long moment before he sighed wearily. He couldn't seem to meet her gaze, playing mindlessly with the screwdriver in his hands to save himself from having to face her scrutiny. "Here's the thing, Jayje... I'm never going to find _this_ again. I watched Mama spend her entire life loving one man, even after he died. You don't find that kind of love twice."

JJ's mouth hung open slightly in surprise at the raw honesty, the vulnerability in his confession. "What are you saying?"

"I think you know exactly what I'm saying," he replied, reluctant to actually come right out and say the words so close to the tip of his tongue.

"So, you're really in _love_ with her? Not just saying it?" she asked. "I mean, no offence, but you're...you." If there was one other thing she knew about Derek Morgan, it was that he kept people at arms' length to avoid having feelings even develop in the first place.

"Touche," he admitted. "But I've been serious about Em since we were kids and that's not about to change." He finally finished screwed the last bolt on the crib together, standing and dusting off his hands on his jeans.

JJ nodded thoughtfully. "So, that's why you're doing all this? Building cribs and everything?"

He shrugged as if it weren't a big deal...even if they both knew it was a really fucking big deal.

* * *

JJ had long since gone home, but Derek remained, determined to finish setting up the nursery to his exacting standards. He was in the process of putting Winnie the Pooh decals on the walls when his phone buzzed with an incoming text.

Fishing his phone out of his pocket, he found Emily's name flashing across the screen, unable to help the brilliant smile that crossed his lips from her name alone.

" **I'm going to stab the orderly with my pathetic plastic fork if I have to eat one more hospital meal..."** the message declared.

He laughed to himself at the threat – mostly because it didn't seem outside the realm of possibility...

" **What do you want to eat?"** he offered, no stranger to the delights of hospital cuisine.

" **A thick juicy burger..."** she replied, along with a begging emoji and a drooling emoji. It was quickly followed by a second message, **"And so many french fries."** Then a third, **"And a chocolate milkshake..."**

Still grinning to himself, he sent back, **"Give me twenty minutes."**

Almost immediately, she replied, **"My hero!"**

* * *

When he arrived at the hospital with Emily's requested meal, he found her fast asleep. Shaking his head fondly, he set the food down on the bedside table and settled in the nearby chair to wait for her to wake up.

He was slowly nodding off himself when there was a knock on the door. Looking up, he found a nurse there with baby Clyde in his bassinet.

"Mama sleeping?" the nurse asked.

He nodded, glancing over at Emily and smiling softly.

The nurse came fully into the room then. "Would the proud Papa like to hold Baby?" she asked.

"Oh, I'm not..." he sputtered, cursing internally for having once again found himself in this situation... "I'm just a friend," he finished the denial.

The nurse's cheeks flushed with embarrassment. "I'm sorry – I just assumed. You're here so often and you look at her with so much love, it just seemed like you're the daddy."

"That seems to be a popular misconception lately," he admitted.

The nurse studied him for a few moments as if sizing him up. "You wish you were, though, don't you?"

He shrugged. What could he possibly say?


	25. Chapter 25

**December 23rd**

"Would you turn that damn thing off?" Emily griped, holding a hand in front of her face to shield herself from the camera.

"No way!" Derek said with a laugh, walking backwards through the house, snapping pictures of Emily as he went. "I'm documenting for posterity. Future historians will want to see the day the future president came home from the hospital."

She rolled her eyes. "Future president?" she repeated, dubious.

He laughed again, the sound rumbling through his chest like thunder. He corralled his features into a mask of seriousness then, correcting, "You're right, aim higher. Future ruler of the free world. _King_ of the world."

She cocked her head, expression annoyed, but full of fondness nonetheless. "You are ridiculous."

"Guilty as charged." He winked.

She set the baby carrier on the floor, kneeling down to unbuckle baby Clyde, with Derek documenting the whole thing. "Welcome home, Baby," she cooed.

The baby made a little grunting sound, blinking blearily as he was lifted from his comfortable little spot, apparently debating whether he needed to start screaming in protest.

"Who's a grumpy little guy?" Derek said with a grin from behind the camera, making sure to capture the irritated expression on the baby's face.

"You'd be grumpy too if you'd just been forcibly evicted from your cushy little hot tub world," Emily said. She lay back on the couch, resting the baby on her chest, rubbing his back. Her tender ministrations seemed to soothe him, his expression slowly turning into a peaceful contented one.

Derek was immediately at her side, taking pictures. And, though Emily had never been the most photogenic person, she was silently grateful for Derek and his camera-happy attitude. She turned to look at him, a soft smile on her lips.

"The camera loves you," Derek said, donning a silly accent. "Make love to the lens. Just like that."

She burst out laughing, then clapped a hand over her mouth to muffle the sound lest she irritate the baby. "Would you _please_ put the camera down for five minutes?" she begged.

Obliging, he put the camera away. "So, how does it feel to be home?" he asked. "Feel any more Mom-like?"

She shrugged slightly, as best she could while lying down. "I'm getting the hang of it," she said. "But I'm nervous."

"You're going to do great," he promised. "I know you will – I can already see how much you love him – when you look at him, it's like he's the only thing that exists in the whole world. He's a very lucky kid to have you for a mom. Of that, I'm certain."

She smiled her thanks, but couldn't seem to muster any words.

A few moments of silence passed as he returned her smile, tenderly smoothed her hair away from her face. Then, even though he hadn't planned on it, he leaned in to kiss her. His lips were gentle on hers, as if she were incredibly fragile, but there was no doubting the way he felt about her.

For the briefest of moments, she returned the kiss, tender and affectionate, saying everything with her lips that she couldn't say with words. But it only lasted the briefest of moments before Derek pulled back.

"Oh, Em... I'm sorry," he whispered, sounding hoarse. "I shouldn't have done that."

"Derek..." she tried to interject, tried to stop his obviously spiralling mind from running amok.

He shook his head. "I know you made yourself clear on where you stand and I respect that..."

" _Derek_ ," she repeated, firmer, more insistent. When he trailed off, turned to look at her, she said seriously, "Derek, I'm not upset."

He blinked a few times, surprised. "You're not?" he asked as if he wasn't entirely sure he believed her.

She shook her head. "I kissed you back."

A beat.

"But..." he prompted, knowing all too well that that wasn't the end of the sentence.

"But this doesn't change anything," she finished. Her expression seemed almost sad and all too apologetic.

He nodded slowly. "I should go," he announced suddenly.

She seemed surprised by his sudden urge to depart when he'd seemed entirely at home there, with her and her son. "Derek..."

"You need your space," he insisted. "Time to bond with your little guy. I'll leave you two alone." He stood, grabbing the camera and heading to the door."

"Derek, wait," she called after him, but not loud enough to disturb the baby. She couldn't exactly chase after him or she risked waking the baby from his recently achieved slumber.

He was already out the door, though.

* * *

"Are you sure this is what you want to do?" Fran asked. She sat on the edge of his bed watching him move through the room like a man possessed, stuffing possessions into his suitcase.

He nodded his insistence that he was, in fact, certain.

Fran hummed a note that clearly betrayed the fact that, try as she might to be supportive, she wasn't exactly thrilled with this development. "But it's almost Christmas," she said. "Can't it wait three days?"

"No, Mama, it can't," he insisted.

"But..." she tried to protest.

He sighed, frustrated, but not so much with his mother as with the situation. "Mama, I just had my heart stomped on a little bit," he reminded her.

She fixed him with a serious expression. "Derek, you're being childish," she informed him.

"Hey!" he yelped. "Mama, you're supposed to be on _my_ side here..."

"I'm always on your side, Derek," she insisted. "But it's my duty as your mother to tell you when you're acting like a big baby." She gave him a pointed look, daring him to challenge her.

He tried to resist rolling his eyes because she was, afterall, his mother. But that didn't stop him from arguing, "I don't see how..."

She shook her head, rolling her eyes. "Derek James Morgan, I love you, but you need to stop thinking about yourself right now."

"I'm trying, Mama," he maintained, "And I think it would be better for everyone if I leave."


	26. Chapter 26

**December 25th**

"Are you absolutely _sure_ this is what you want?" Derek asked yet again. He was carrying the baby's car seat with one hand, holding Emily's hand with the other as they walked up the sidewalk to his mother's house.

Emily groaned, shot him a _'please stop asking'_ look. "I'm sure, Derek – I didn't race across town at midnight to ask you to stay for no reason."

"I meant about spending Christmas Day with Mama," he said with a little laugh.

"Oh..." She shrugged. "Why do you say that like I'm about to walk into a war zone?" she asked with a nervous little laugh of her own.

He squeezed her hand. "Well, Mama can be a little overwhelming when it comes to my love life," he admitted.

"We're not exactly...you know," she pointed out.

He nodded. "I know we're not technically 'dating' yet," he said, "But in Mama's eyes, you're the closest thing I've had to a serious relationship."

She raised a brow. "Are you seriously telling me I'm the first girlfriend you've brought home to meet your mom?"

"Maybe," he admitted. "I was just waiting for the right girl..."

She rolled her eyes. "Liar – you're just afraid of commitment."

He chuckled. "I'm going to plead the fifth on that one." He knocked on the door, then opened it and stood back to let Emily inside. "Mama," he called out, "I'm home!"

Fran came rushing towards them, immediately wrapping Emily in a bone-crushing embrace.

"Nice to see you again too, Mrs. Morgan," she managed to choke out from the midst of the hug.

"How many times must I ask you to call me Fran?" she said, releasing Emily. She proceeded to grab Emily's hand and lead her over to the baby's carrier. "You _must_ introduce me to your little bundle of joy!" she declared.

Derek pouted. "What am I? Chopped liver?"

Both women ignored him as they crouched down next to baby Clyde's carrier. Emily lifted him out and passed him to Fran, who immediately cradled him into her chest. "Oh, Emily, he's beautiful!" she gushed.

"Just like his mom," Derek murmured, just loud enough for Emily to hear.

Fran, though, missed nothing, smiling to herself as they shared a tender look. She cleared her throat to interrupt. "I think this little guy wants to open his presents," she announced.

"Mama, he's not even a week old," Derek reminded her.

She held up one hand in self-defence. "It was Santa."

Emily just shook her head and laughed. "Well, Clyde is very grateful to _Santa_ ," she murmured, following Fran into the living room where gifts were piled under the tree.

"Before we open gifts, Mama," Derek said, "Emily has something she'd like to ask you..."

She turned to Emily with an expectant expression.

"Well, you know I'm not close with my mother and Clyde's parents have both passed away, so baby Clyde doesn't really have any grandparents..." She paused, cleared her throat. "What I'm trying to say is...would you be his honorary grandmother?"

"Really?" Fran asked, eyes filling with tears.

Emily nodded earnestly.

In answer, Fran kissed Emily's temple with maternal affection. "I promise to love this little guy just like he were my own grandson," she vowed. "He might be the only one I ever have," she said pointedly to Derek.

"Hey!" he whined. "I just brought home a girl for the first time and you're already pestering me for grandbabies?"

She just grinned at him with faux innocence. "Derek, I love you, but I want to be a grandma before I die..."

He groaned. "I'll work on it, okay?"

"Good boy," she murmured. "Now, let's spoil this little cutie, okay? He came early just so I could give him a good Christmas."


	27. Chapter 27

**December 24th**

JJ knocked on Emily's front door, but received no answer. She tried the doorknob and found the door unlocked, sending her concern skyrocketing. "Em?" she called out as she entered the house on tiptoe, lest she be about to interrupt a burglar or something equally horrifying. "Emily, is everything alright?"

"In here," Emily called back, sounding completely fine, albeit exhausted.

JJ followed the sound of her voice up the stairs to find her looked harried as she paced outside the closed nursery door looking rather like she hadn't slept in a solid week. "You look like shit, Em," she informed her, keeping her voice just above a whisper so she wouldn't wake the baby on the other side of the door.

"Gee, thanks," she said wryly. She knew she was only teasing, but she was far too frustrated to take the joke in stride.

"Why did you call me?" JJ asked. She'd assumed at the time that the cry for help was because of the baby, but she was starting to doubt her assumption. "It's almost midnight..."

She let out a shuddering breath. "I think I fucked up," she confessed, scrubbing a restless hand through her normally pristinely styled hair.

JJ raised a brow. "I'm going to need a little more information," she prompted, trying not to let her curiosity show too obviously lest Emily mistake it for judgment.

Emily suddenly seemed reluctant to confess, mashing her lips together and deliberately avoiding eye contact.

"Em, I got out of bed in the middle of the night for you – the least you could do is tell me why," she urged.

She sighed. "I kissed Derek," she admitted, voice barely audible.

"What!?" The word came out an octave or two too high and, from beyond the door, there came the unmistakable sound of the baby stirring.

Emily winced. "Technically, he kissed me. But I didn't push him away..." She opened the door and lifted the baby into her arms before he could start screaming.

Blinking a few times in stunned silence, JJ took a few moments to digest the news. "Okay..." she said slowly, "So, what does this mean? Are you two like... _together_ now?"

"No. I mean, I don't think so..." She huffed. "He left."

She raised a brow. "He left?" she repeated. "To go where?"

"I don't know! He just kind of...ran away," Emily said, obviously frustrated. She propped the baby against her shoulder and gently patted his back in an attempt to soothe him.

JJ laughed as if she thought this was all some kind of bizarre joke. A moment of silence followed, but no punchline seemed forthcoming. "No, really?"

Emily just glowered, obviously annoyed that she didn't seem to believe her.

"Well, where is he now? Why don't you just call him and have him come over to..." she started.

"I don't know!" She threw up one hand in exasperation. "I tried calling and texting, but he won't answer."

JJ held up her hands in a silent gesture to calm down. "There's a simple solution here..." She pulled her phone from her pocket, dialing the one and only Penelope Garcia. After explaining the situation (while leaving out certain sordid details), she paused to wait while Garcia did her sleuthing.

Emily was barely containing her anxiety, pacing as best she could in the limited space, only resisting the urge to pick her nails because her hands were currently occupied.

When she finally hung up, JJ looked like a woman headed for the gallows as she prepared herself to deliver the less than stellar news...

"Well?" Emily prompted, when no words were immediately forthcoming, decidedly impatient.

"He..." she started, faltered. "He bought a plane ticket back to Chicago." Her voice was small and meek, knowing Emily would be heartbroken.

Devastation washed over her face and it took her a few moments to find any kind of words with which to respond. She shook her head once, twice. "Please tell me you're kidding," she begged. "That this is just some sick joke. Please..."

"I'm sorry," she whispered. She had nothing else to say. Nothing that would make this any better.

A few moments of silence passed, the wheels inside Emily's head obviously turning. Then, she exited the room without a word.

JJ followed after her to find her wrestling the baby into his snowsuit. "Em, what on Earth are you doing?" she demanded.

"I'm going after him," she announced, proceeding to buckle the baby into his carrier.

"Em, it's the middle of the night," JJ started to protest.

She wasn't in the mood to be reasoned with, though. "I can't let him leave," she insisted. "Not without telling him how I feel."

JJ knew Emily well enough to know that she wasn't about to be dissuaded. "I'll drive," she said with a sigh.

* * *

"Derek!" a voice called out through the airport.

He whipped his head around at the sound of his name, not immediately finding its source.

The airport was surprisingly crowded, given the time of day and the time of year, and he couldn't find a familiar face among the throngs of people, so he shrugged and continued on.

"Derek!" the voice called again. "Derek Morgan!"

He whirled around this time, the voice closer and more urgent, to find Emily racing toward him.

"Emily?" he called back, surprised and confused.

She flung herself into his chest, arms wrapped around his neck, holding on for dear life. After a moment in which his mind struggled to comprehend the situation, he wrapped her own arms tight around her.

"Em, what are you doing here?" he whispered.

"Don't leave," she begged. "I want you to stay."

He sputtered for a few moments, trying to form a coherent response.

She continued, "I need you, Derek. I know what I said, but I was wrong – I can't do this without you by my side."

If anything, that seemed to confuse him even more. "Em... What..."

Seeming to realize she wasn't being clear enough, she stopped talking and kissed him with every pent up emotion she couldn't find the words to explain.


End file.
